Out of Reach
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Oliver Davis is the famous genius professor who brought parapsychology over the last stretch to being considered a legitimate science. Mai Taniyama is his dorky pupil who just happens to dig his stick-up-his-ass talk and walk. She also just happens to have enough latent psychic power to follow along on one of his cases. Lucky? Nope. But she doesn't know that yet...
1. Glare of Death

Out of Reach

By Lowefantasy

1

" _I can't say that when I write a story, what I want comes out. No. Something nameless comes along and tells the story to me, and if I am quick and loyal enough, it will bring me along for the ride."_

Two in the morning was the witching hour for writing essays.

A can of Monster energy drink stood inches from my hand, dry and tall, though still oozing with a chemical sweet smell. My left eye had started twitching about an hour ago and still went strong. My stomach was definitely asleep. My brain felt like blood sausage, and my back was essentially a plank of knots.

 _I loathe you, Shakespear,_ I thought as I typed in one more inane sentence about the feminist arcs of "As You Like it." _I LOATHE you. Loathe you loathe you loathe you-_

"Good God, what did I do to deserve this?" I moaned, giving in to the urge to slam my head on the keyboard.

Bad idea. Laptop went on the fritz. Several windows open that I had no clue for, and the well-beloved essay, well….

It got exited out of.

Forgetting that I had a roommate to account for, I tapered off my blood curdling scream with explosive expletives.

"DAMN YOU MICROSOFT WORD, YOU BETTER HAVE AUTOSAVED OR I SWEAR—"

"WHAT THE HELL!"

Said roommate had magically appeared in the doorway to my room, eyes red, dyed hair redder. She looked ready to kill.

"Can't you see that I'm dying here?" I said. "Or at least being zombified?"

"Like I give a damn, I got Algebra at 6am! Freaking, effing, bastard 6am, and you go around screaming? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

But I had opened up Microsoft Word and, yes, it had autosaved, even if only a few lines earlier than where I was.

I did many ohms and bows to the computer, while the fake redhead looked on, baffled.

"Well, wake me up again and I'll shave your head while you sleep," she said, turning to retreat back to bed. At least she had tried to sound like she meant it.

But I didn't care. Word had autosaved. Holy Mother of God. Thank you.

I had about one thousand words to go to be finished. The hour dragged on, and even the Monster juices didn't stop my brain from crashing several times, leaving me to stare blankly at the screen. I'd shake myself, slap my cheeks, pinch my tongue, and keep writing.

By the time the blessed ending came my face felt like it had been sunburned and my tongue hated me. But just like with my roommate, I could care less. I was released. Heaven had set me free.

And Monster or not, I was out.

Needless to say, falling asleep near five in the morning does not well rested one make. And while I didn't have to do Math at the unholy hour of 6am, I did have Paraphysiology 2030 at 7am.

And Professor Davis was perhaps the least forgiving of all teachers ever. While of the belief that college students could flunk the classes they paid for if they wanted to, their loss, he was merciless to any signs of weakness. Impressing him ranked up there on the list of World Peace or Russia and America becoming bosom companions.

And the look he was giving me as he stood before me, dressed in his usual severe black, can't-be-legally-handsome and young, withered my soul.

He said nothing. He didn't have to. Even the students sitting next to me cringed back, as though afraid of some of that glare splashing onto them.

"I-I stayed up writing an essay—" I started.

He snorted, and turned back to the pull-down screen, where he had a video clip up of some infrared sensors around a fallen chair.

"As you can see," he said, as though no crucifixion by gaze had occurred, "the chair is slightly warm after being moved. This suggests a transfer of energy occurring that wasn't entirely physical, otherwise the heat would have been focused and dissipated quickly. This gives us evidence enough to assume we now have our third criteria for a poltergeist."

I rolled my chin on my desk to get my head upright and sighed. Once more, Shakespeare had ruined my life. I didn't even know why I had to take English 2010, I was a Paraphysiology major, not an effing English major. And it didn't matter whether you wrote like Hemmingway or Bugs Bunny, Professor Davis would hate your essay anyways and display it to the class to point out all its faults. This would have been considered mental and emotional abuse to some, but since everyone had a turn on the projector of shame, it was a community effort on our part to endure.

As usual, Professor Davis left out the conclusion of this case for us to write up our theories as to how it will end. My brain left my shame and became overcome with dreams of my bed. Ditching Astronomy 1010 was in the forecast.

"Now, I think I got everyone's waiver signed from last week, even from the most procrastinative," I felt his ice gaze on me and peeked up from my fluffy bed dreams. "So we'll start psychic tests on Friday. I'll be going in alphabetical order so if you miss your turn, too bad so sad. As I said before, the top three with the strongest psychic results will come with me on my next case. That's if any of you have any sort of innate power." He snapped something against his hand. A pen? "Which I highly doubt. You're dismissed."

I oozed out of my chair and more or less dragged my backpack out like the kill of a caveman. I barely noticed one of my classmates, a charismatic music major, patting my shoulder as he passed.

"So glad I'm not you," he said. "His glare alone is what keeps me from knocking out homework at three in the morning."

"Five," I said, hardly hearing myself.

"Phew, you don't do well without sleep, huh?"

"Nope," I popped. Why were we talking? I had a bed to get to.

"You need any help getting home?"

"These boots were made for walk'n." Was I even wearing boots? I squinted at him through sleepy eyes. Takigawa was it? One of the many who took Professor Davis's class because it was damn interesting, not because they were actually serious about the supernatural or even believed in ghosts, least of all charmed by the Professor's lovely personality.

Takigawa flinched. "No need to glare at me."

"It's called a squint. The lights, the life," I hissed out a breath. "May it all burn and die."

"Yeaaaaah, you go and get some sleep. Like, now."

I didn't respond to that. Just staggered away in the general direction of outside. There I could zombie walk my way back to my apartment and get drunk on the smell of my own pillow.

And hopefully, forget about the stinging pain of Professor Davis's disappointment once again.

I really was a masochist.


	2. Blackety Black Black

2

" _But it's soothing, writing. Storytelling. Like a sickness being extracted from your mind and soul. As the mysterious force leads me along the story, I become calmed, distracted, even if the story is far from a comforting world. Writing about my fantasies only did it for me back in middle school. Maybe that's part of being an adult: dabbling more in real life."_

I slept through most of Wednesday, made it to my evening class (the one that owned the hellfire of a Shakespeare assignment), then had a stupid hard time getting to sleep that night so I was sleepy on Thursday anyway. A physics class (part of being a parapsychology major), a class on myths and legends (technically labeled under English, but so much more fun), then inhaled whatever food I could find and sleep.

Friday morning, seven sharp, I was in class and ready to go.

I shouldn't have bothered. Having the last name 'Taniyama' didn't exactly put me on top of the list, and it was forty-five minutes into class before he got around to calling me to his office, which was across the hall in another wing.

"Mai Taniyama," he looked up to find me straight as a cadet and feet away from him. He heaved a heavy sigh that spoke volumes, then turned and walked out, hopefully expecting me to follow. He didn't say anything until we had reached his office and I had sat down across his desk, which had been cleared of his monitor/computer and replaced with a few devices. One which was essentially a box lined with paired lights and buttons, another a simple touchscreen tablet with a set of cards, and then a cardboard separator, like the ones used in kid science fairs.

He pulled up his own tablet, blackety black black as his clothes and hair. Despite the professional emo look, it all just served to bring out the striking blue of his eyes.

Best not think too much on that.

First, he had me guess which light was going to come on in the box. For fifty blinks he had me not press a button (I missed all of them), and the next he had me press the button of the light I thought would turn on next (also, missed all of them—freaking rigged). Then he put the science fair cardboard between us and told me to pick up the tablet.

"On my end, I'm going to choose a series of cards," he said. "You are to pick the cards you think I have."

Missed every one of those too.

Then he pushed down the partition (why'd he even bother), and rolled a dice a few times, telling me to call out a number…

I missed every one of those as well…

Trying not to tear up at my smothered hope that I might have some super brain power that would get me on a real, deliciously horrifying case, I muttered out the last dream I had. It was hard. My throat hurt.

"…and there were, um, lights? Like, everywhere and…" Oh god, I couldn't tell him I saw him—I had to. "And I saw you there."

I thought I could see him stiffen, as though readying for the inevitable humiliation of hearing a porno dream of himself.

I rushed to amend that—even if in reality he didn't look fazed at all. "But there was nothing creepy! Actually, um, it was kinda weird. You smiled at me and…" Face, don't catch fire now. "And you told me not to worry about what you think. That you've always had a stick up your butt—not that I think you have a stick up your butt! But I think my subconscious might…"

He just looked at me. Man, talk about a poker face.

I cleared my throat, hoping to loosen it up a bit more. "There's not much more to it than that. We sort of talked until I woke up." I hesitated. "Dream you was really nice." _No offense, but you're kinda a whole lot mean._

He blinked. A pinky finger twitched from where he held them all intertwined beneath his chin.

"That settles it then," he leaned back in his chair, hands still all intertwined together like some Xavier impression. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow at five am, my office. Tell me your classes and I'll send out some notices to your professors that you'll be missing a few days."

I stared.

And stared.

"What?! But I like…I got like—"

"It's nigh impossible to miss every single light and every single card," he said in that smack to the face blunt tone he specialized at. "Based off this I can conclude that you have a latent psychic instinct of sorts that can warn you of what, I have yet to guess. It's an area of clairvoyance, I believe."

I was dead. I had to be. Yeah, I had hoped against hope I'd be super special enough to go on this case, but when had I ever been ultra super special? I got straight B's, for crying out loud, and my hair and eyes were brown. BROWN. Boring, normal brown, and not even long enough to pull off the sexy Hollywood look.

Well, my parents were both dead, that was kind of rare. Nowadays. In America.

But I didn't have any especially cool talents, I wasn't creative or cool or popular, and often times I made pity friends because they heard I lived alone. That was part of the reason I asked a grouch like Ayako to be my roommate…

And why I also kind of liked stick-up-his-ass Professor Davis.

"You can close your mouth now," he said. "It's nothing phenomenal or rare, but I can tell you already you're probably the few, if any, of the students on this campus with any sort of ability aside from sneezing and scratching your prosterier at the same time."

My mouth twitched. Yeah. I kind of liked it when he talked like that.

Like I said: Me, a freaking masochist.

Unable to help myself, I saluted. "I'll be there, sir!"

In answer, he just heaved another sigh.


	3. Why Have Houses Become So Lame?

3

" _Writing has come hard to me in this dark place. It's a hole with slippery sides and no ladders. As a last ditch effort to escape, I'm trying this out: the storytelling. I'm forcing myself back into writing. For as Stephen King said, life isn't for supporting art. It's the other way around."_

Oh dear holy boxers of Potter, 5am was a terrible hour to be awake and ready for and not hyped up on Monster for an essay throw down.

I still couldn't quite see straight, even standing in his overly bright, bland office. It just had books. Couldn't he get, like, a poster or two? Wouldn't kill him.

I recognized the charismatic music major next to me, who was pinching in his knees in delight, though it just made him look like he had to pee.

But the real surprise, and why I made it here at all, was the presence of my red-haired roommate, who snapped bubblegum as she stared down the laxidazial Professor Davis lounging in his blackety black office chair.

Thankfully, I packed the night before. I still had that plaguey feeling of forgetting something important, though.

Professor Davis nodded to each of us, as though mentally checking off his chickens or checklist, and stood up. "I hope none of you get carsick."

Ayako gaped. "We-we're driving to San Fransisco? That's a freaking twelve-hour drive!"

"Yes, and about $600 cheaper than taking a plane with all my equipment," he said, once more smack to the face blunt—as though it had been a mistake even using her voice at all. So mean…hee. I mean, wait, bad Professor! Being so mean to Ayako.

Takigawa let out a low whistle. "Thank god for Yugioh Duel Links."

"And Plants vs. Zombies," I said, though my half-awake brain was looking forward to all the smack talk I'd be able to hear the professor dish out.

Ayako rolled her eyes at both of us and proceeded to put her attention to her phone, as though already threatened by death of boredom.

She still had enough multitasking power to follow the rest of us as we followed Professor Davis out into the dark parking lot, where a, get this, blackety black beast van, that kind people always get kidnapped in movies with, waited in the parking lot. A tall, very tall Asian looking guy got out to open the sliding door for us to the lone seat that remained in a van that potentially kidnap at least twenty people. Rest of the inside was stuffed with boxes and totes.

The professor loaded up without a word as the three of us squished together on the van bench. Yeah, it technically had three seatbelts, but it didn't really work with a rather large Takigawa and a wide-hipped Ayako. Skinny little me got squished in the middle.

But, hey, smack talk dishing, right? Right? Thrill of a lifetime? Horror ghost case here we come?

Nope. Takigawa conked out first, head thrown back. Since he didn't seem to mind, being unconscious and all, I ended up commandeering his arm for a pillow and passing out as well. And since I'm not exactly a log-heavy sleeper, I can assume not much talking happened between the predawn hours.

I woke up to the too loudspeaker of a McDonalds drive through.

 _"Can I take your order?"_

"Orders," said the professor over his shoulder in the passenger seat. Didn't even know the name of his lanky assistant.

"Oo! Oo! A hashbrown and a sausage McMuffin with orange juice!"

Thankfully, I was loud enough to jostle the other two from their stupors and or comas. Takigawa wiped at his mouth.

"I'll have the same thing as Mai, doubled."

Ayako wrinkled her nose. "Would it kill you to stop by a Denny's?"

Professor Davis didn't even look at her.

Then we got to hear Jacky Chan speak for the first time as he related our orders in a low, serious kind of voice that made me think of bad assess in action movies. What can I say, I have a thing for the way people talk.

I didn't bother to see where we were until my lap was properly filled with breakfast.

"Had kind of a funny dream," I said to Takigawa, as we related to each other the wonders of sausage McMuffin. "I was a kid that got stuck in the closet and threw up a bunch of quarters. I was getting all excited about where I'd spend them all when I woke up."

"Ooo, deep," he said, snickering. "Let me know when you throw up rainbows. I didn't dream anything."

"Please, not while we're eating," said Ayako.

The black duo in the front said nothing. And continued to say nothing throughout the whole trip, to my dismay. Plants vs. Zombies on my phone could only entertain me for so long, and it wasn't like I was rich enough to even HAVE any data for playing other games.

By the time evening rolled around and we finally stopped in front of some big-ass, old-school Los Angelos Victorian mansion, I demonstrated my seat oozing for Takigawa and Ayako, wondering if sitting for long periods of time could turn your butt into a pancake. My bubble but was, like, my only redeeming quality.

Takigawa let out a low whistle. "Looks like an 1800's. Pristine."

"Please tell me we're going to have decent food for dinner," said Ayako, who, as far as I could tell, had only eaten a salad from Wendy's at lunchtime.

"Depends on your effort," said the Professor. "And how quickly you get the ingredients out of the back."

Ayako's face dropped. Takigawa grinned and cracked his knuckles.

"Prof, you don't know how crazy awesome my cooking skills are."

"Adequate is quite enough."

Was it just me, or did Professor Davis seem tired? That was one thing to say about me or any other college student, but the professor didn't show much of how he was doing, besides grumpy and disappointed. I had never really seen him tired before. It was like witnessing a rare natural event.

That awe vanished the moment the tall Jacky Chan opened the back of the van and told us to start carting things inside. I'd just been demoted from ghost hunter to moving company.

"His name is Lin," said the professor, once more in the tone that was like a slap to the face—like I should have known.

Lin? Easy enough to remember.

And that crap was _heavy!_ Eventually, I just ended up staying by the van until someone could hand me something light enough to carry in. Cables, computer monitors, a pickax? At least my idle time gave me the chance to appreciate our quarry.

She stood tall and white, at least three stories, with arched roofs and blue and yellow wooden garnishes swirling beneath the eaves. Two porches, one of those turret like sides that rounded at the top, charming blue shutters, and just the general awesomeness one often beholds in refurbished, huge, beautiful Victorian houses. Why don't they make them like that anymore?

Inside was just as delicious. The door opened to an entryway with a large, ornate staircase of dark wood took up half of all the room. As I went towards it and looked up, expecting a chandelier, I saw that I could see all the way up to the last floor, and the carefully polished railings around the opening framed by staircases.

"We'll be using the foyer for base."

Turn left to the open arch of the hallway and, sure enough, a foyerish foyer. The seats were, sadly, pretty modern and leather backed couches and chairs, though the coffee table showed some promise of being old, albeit sparkly. The walls were painted a summer sky blue with white paneling half way and a yellow and blue rug, framed with designs of twining flowers, covered the majority of the dark wood floors. A counter with a door next to it stood opposite to the front windows, where the navy blue side of the sunset could be seen if one craned their neck to look past the skyscrapers.

"Guess that's the call in desk," said Ayako, rapping her knuckles on the counter. "Just got the chairs back there, no computers or anything. Not even bad art."

I snapped my head around from craning past skyscrapers to give her an aghast face. "You mean they're going to turn this beautiful place into a business office? Blasphemy!"

"A Bed and Breakfast, technically," said our young professor as he dropped a box by a wall of collecting totes and boxes. "And there's something I'd like to inform you about before we settle in. A bit of disclaimer for this particular case."

He turned about and put his hands in his slack packets. I did my cadet stiffen and salute while Takigawa and Ayako just leaned their backs on the walls to show they had their attention.

Lin the tall was outside, getting another load.

"The reason we are called here is that the owners, who have recently just bought this place and refurbished it, if you can't tell by the new paint smell, are concerned about the house's past with numerous suicides. It has a reputation for, as they said, 'killing off' its inhabitants, even though the suicides are one at a time and spaced far apart." His eyes narrowed for a moment, as though with disgust. "That's why there isn't a sign up front. They want to know if there's any basis to this so they can advertise it as being legitimately haunted. But, because there is a record of there being a negative effect in this house," he crossed his arms. "If anyone finds themselves entertaining thoughts of self-harm or suicide, you are to inform me immediately and get out of the house. I already have a fund set aside to send those who are affected home."


	4. Why Was it Hard to Cry?

4

 _"Depression, real depression, the kind that whispers to you that death is the only escape, can't be comforted by words. It gets worse if you or someone else even try. The only thing that can be done is to distract yourself until your brain hopefully stabilizes. And if it doesn't stabilize, well…"_

When Dad died, I lost two parents. I say so because Mom, with her meager high school diploma, went to work full time, and the times I saw her were few and far in-between. When she was home, she mostly slept. It seemed she could never get enough sleep.

So when she died out of the blue when I was fourteen, the worst thing wasn't the funeral, meager as it was, or suddenly finding myself alone. It was coming home to my empty apartment and realizing nothing had changed. Everything was as she left it, so it could have been any other, ordinary day.

And I felt nothing.

I walked about the house numbly, looking at the dirty dishes in the sink that weren't mine, wandering into the bathroom to take stock of her toothbrush and soaps. I lifted the brush we shared that had a mix of our hair still in it.

Lastly, I went to my mom's side of the bedroom where her unmade bed sat unchanged from when she had got up that morning for work.

Disturbed by my own numbness, I crawled into her bed and hugged her pillow. I drank in the scent of her favorite coconut scented shampoo and the unnameable musk which was Mom. This wasn't the first time I had done this. I usually did every morning after she left, not just because her bed would still be warm and was somehow comfier than mine, but because the scent always soothed me back to sleep.

It did this time too, all the same. Nothing had changed. Mom was dead, and everything kept going on like it usually did.

My teacher, possibly the only person in my school who had known of the funeral, woke me up the next morning, tears in her eyes.

"It's time for you to come home with me, dearie," she said, so gently. "You can't live here alone."

My mom's stuff was sold. I was allowed to keep her dark blue bedsheets and Native American patterned comforter, and her downy pillow she had always been so protective of.

Eventually, the smell wore away. Everything got put through the wash.

And that's when I woke up and realized I didn't like where I was living. It was different. It smelled different. Mom's dirty dishes weren't in the sink. The old, fugly green couch her and dad had gotten when it was still in style was gone. Her shampoo was gone.

And that Mom had gone for good.

I did some crying, but it wasn't therapeutic. It was like I had to force myself to give up the tears. I took some time trying to talk myself into appreciating the kindness of my homeroom teacher. After all, my parents had been only children and older when they got married, and my grandparents had already been either dead or on their way when I was born. The extended family beyond that had never heard of me, and probably hadn't even realized that my mom had even died.

My teacher mentioned taking me to grief counseling, but I was afraid. I was afraid once they found out about my numbness and forced tears I'd be labeled some sort of broken, heartless person. Like a sociopath, as I later googled. I was afraid they'd put me on meds or send me to an institution, or worse, say I never loved my mother as I should.

And I loved my mom. I loved her coconut shampoo and all the signs she had been around. But they had sold those. Clean them. Gave them away.

And there was no bed to crawl into when I woke up at five in the morning for no reason.

So, once I hit 16, I got a job in order to qualify for emancipation, which is essentially when the government lets an individual under 18 years old live on their own and have the legal rights of an adult. Personally, I don't think it's any of their uncaring business, but it went through and I was free. Especially that, once I had been declared a legal adult, I then qualified to inherit the money left behind by my mother's life insurance.

I instantly went back to mine and Mom's old apartment, but it had other residents. So I found a studio apartment nearby. I didn't like wasted room. I wanted every corner to be mine. So I turned down one room or even two room apartments, even though I could afford it, and settled for the studio, which kept my bedroom and living room as one and a hop and skip away from the kitchen.

Mom's bedsheets had faded when I put them on my bed in my new apartment. The elastic for the fitted sheet had gone slack. The Navaho comforter had lost some of its fluff and gone flat. Her downy pillow had gone yellow.

But I still got clearance fabric at Walmart to match the comforter's colors and made curtains out of them.

I got my furniture in dark blue. I got dishes in the Navaho tan and red.

Then I got coconut shampoo, the same kind she would always get.

And that, to me, released a heaviness I hadn't realized I had been crushed by over the past two years. I breathed in deep of the space, the smell of her shampoo, the feel of the Indian blanket, at my second-hand TV and bookcase full of old dark fantasy and horror novels. It was like I had built a shrine to my mother and now her spirit could be at peace.

I stayed there till I finished high school. Then, having received a full ride scholarship from the only university in America that offered parapsychology as a major, I said goodbye to Mom's shrine, took all my other stuff, and found a roommate who didn't get all sappy when I told her I was as orphaned as orphaned could be. In fact, she slapped my back like a man and said good for me for being strong. She didn't try to relate, as she already knew she couldn't, and she was hilariously prudish. Her nails, her hair, who whined about that kind of stuff? Oh, I guess a lot of people do. Weird.

She said nothing about my worn out blue sheets and Indian blanket or my yellowed pillow. She said nothing about all my dark blue furniture and curtains. She did pick at a few of my books, but not being a big book reader herself, she couldn't give any honest approval.

And from there, I met Professor Oliver Davis, practically a celebrity.

And to my undoing, he wasn't hitting middle age as I had assumed, but young, and attractive in a deadly way a shark could be. I'd look at him and think "Here's a guy that never smiles unless it's to condescend someone. Or bare his teeth."

It was entertaining. I didn't have a crush on him, I refused to, I was afraid to,(someone that pretty and out of my league and mean? Heck no). But I could enjoy his lectures, his cases, the twine and complication of his genius mind, and his icy, sarcastic view of the rest of humanity.

Just like Ayako, I guess I found him hilarious.

And somehow, studying the dead and what happens to us after we die, helped me feel that walking into my Mom-less home, and feeling like nothing had changed, and being numb, was okay. That I wasn't some sociopath. That I wasn't a nutcase. That I loved my mom.

I thought of this as I walked into the room allotted to me after enduring the headache which was a Professor Davis overseen put together of all the monitors and electronics and cameras that had been placed all over the house. It wasn't dark blue. It was bright pink and red, in a big brass frame.

Kind of had to laugh at that. My bed had been pink and covered in My Little Pony. Some teenager I had been. Let's do the time warp again.

Anything relatable to Mom ended at that, and I didn't think of her again as I squealed over the clawed tub in the attached bathroom and the funky, wooden toilet seat.

 **Author's Note: I hope you guys are enjoying it so far. It's a little AU, but I'm going to stay true to the characters and the horror as much as I can ^.^ Please let me know how I'm doing. It's very much appreciated.**


	5. Tuna Casserole, FTW

5

 _"The other day, when my son saw me crying, he started to tear up too and ran off. When he returned, he had one of my favorite books, which he put on the bed beside me. 'Reading makes you happy.' Then he grabbed my giant Pikachu pillow I've had since I was 9. 'Pikachu makes you happy, yeah.' Then he stopped for a moment, considering me in his vast 4-year-old attention span, and said, 'I'm sorry, Mom.'_

 _And that's what I hate the most. What this monster darkness does to my precious husband and little boy. They deserve the world. Happiness. Freaking heaven. They brought me into heaven after all the years of loneliness in my childhood._

 _I'll never let it have its way. That would hurt them most of all."_

Despite having plenty of hands, the professor saw it fit that only I and he should do the fine tune adjustments to the cameras and temperature readings. It was more important for me, after all, since I was the only parapsychology major in the trio he got.

But did he have to be so dang picky?

"Little to the left,"

"I already moved it to the left, Boss."

"And it wasn't enough. Do it more. No, now that's too much. Stop getting upset with me and do your job."

"My job is cleaning the boiler rooms at school. Jeff can be picky, but you take the cake."

Professor Davis leveled a cool stare at me that somehow managed to scare me more than his crucifixion glare.

"Are you telling me," he said slowly. "That you are what I have to look forward to as prodigy?"

He said 'prodigy' with the French accent and everything, oh gal.

"Not if you have kids," I said, somehow managing to crack a big smile.

He whacked me on the head with the clipboard for that.

"To the right. Just a tad. If there's just a sliver of the room left out, that's information we will miss. Remember this for the future."

Which made me pause after I had nudged the camera ever so gently right.

What did one do with a parapsychology degree?

Well, obviously what we're doing right now: ghost hunt. Prove places haunted or not. But it wasn't exactly necessary for most of society to survive, was it? When did you hear of a ghost…wait…okay, so the one here could be possibly killing people, sure, but how often does that happen? Wouldn't that mean there'd be few jobs?

"Just what kind of demand is there for this kind of thing?" I asked.

"You signed up for this field without knowing?" he said, scribbling down the temperatures I read off and heading for the door. The room we had just finished up was the front hall. Now we were moving to the kitchen, which was perhaps the most industrial, modern place of the whole house. Such a pity. Old school kitchen stuff is tasty too.

"Well, they couldn't say, but they sure advertised it a lot. The counselors, that is."

He snorted. "Of course they did. The university took a risk making this new program. If not for me, they'd probably not have thought of it at all."

I rolled my eyes. "Arrogant much?"

"Only when I have cause to be."

I had to give it to him. He got me there.

"Should I start clapping?" I asked.

"You should start by setting up this camera in that far corner opposite of the stoves."

"Hear the clink of camera as my roar of worship," I hefted up the camera—and started to teeter.

His hand came out quick and forcefully to steady me. "Honestly, do you not have a muscle in your body? That camera is worth more than you could ever repay, I assure you, do not drop it."

"Thanks?" Newly balanced, I teetered back to the corner he pointed me to. If the jerk wanted the camera lifted with carefulness he should carry the damn thing himself. Ugh, it was much more fun to hear him smack talk the world in general than smack talk me. Or people close to me. I mean general people, who won't be affected by his attitude and won't care about not being protected by me. Yeah.

More fine-tune nudging. Temperature report. Taping some cords against the wall so people wouldn't trip over them. A little more sarcastic banter on my part. I could almost say I was enjoying myself.

Dinner was some sort of tuna casserole that made Takigawa ridiculously proud and Ayako extremely suspicious.

"Never distrust a dish smothered in that much cheese," he said, picking out a pea that had been corrupted and chained by said cheese and popping it in his mouth.

"Ugh! Don't go picking at it with your fingers. People have to eat that!"

"What? I washed them. Hand sanitized them too."

"Maybe they don't want your spit residue."

"Oo, the potent spit residue. Change flavor so muuuuch."

"If you two are done flirting like ten-year-olds," said Professor Davis.

That shut them up.

"If it helps any, I'm her roommate. I can help hook you up," I whispered to Takigawa, grinning from ear to ear.

"No. Thanks. I can pick up my own girls. And nicer ones at that."

He had said that one out loud. I winced at the searing glare of fire Ayako shot across the table.

"Are you for real?" she said.

"Ayako, just forget about him and eat," I said, plopping a full paper bowl of cheesy messy casserole in front of her. "You've hardly eaten all day, you're hangry."

It had been a good call on my part to volunteer to serve the food. 'Cause she took it and peace returned to the long table of the dining room, which was huge, by the way. Both the table and the room, mind you. I was kind of afraid of the fact we were eating on it at all, but there was a weird plastic cover on the pretty wood, so I guess we're safe.

The professor had me back on cameras and temperature duty right after I'd swallowed the tuna cheese monster, which actually wasn't all that bad. I could actually taste the tuna and peas, though the noodles had lost the war to cheese. Talk about freaking slave driver.

At the look on my face, he only said, "Do you even want to be good at this?"

Which got me to thinking and repenting, because, to be honest, I didn't know what else I would do with myself. Whatever else probably required more Shakespeare essays.

And…the whole sociopath thing…

Besides, after I had built up a tolerance for his nitpicking, it did start occurring less and I did get better at it. That, or he became more forgiving—naaaaaah.

Eventually, sweet bedtime came, and I was so achy and knotted up that I figured I could bathe in the morning and more or less fell into bed half naked. Forgot to pack my PJs. Knew I had been forgetting something.

My face hit some paper that hadn't been there the last time I was in my room.

Waving my hand around blindly, I found the tableside lamp and lit it.

The paper was yellowed and simple, of the same consistency of printer paper, and had curling black letters sketched across it.

 _Strip me clean._

 _Let me free._

 _This world doesn't have_

 _Enough air for me._

 _So may it come_

 _Quietly, quietly,_

 _So no one_

 _Interferes._

 _And make me naked_

 _To the bone,_

 _To the darkness_

 _Of home._

 _Make me fleshless,_

 _Make me whole,_

 _Make me no longer_

 _Mortal._

I wrinkled my nose at the words. I had never been much for poetry, and this one I could just see some emo dude with too greasy black hair in his face reciting at mic night. But, more importantly, where the crap did it come from? Who left it on my bed?

Figuring I could just ask everyone in the morning, I left the poem on my bedside table and thought about aimless, stupid stuff till they turned into dreams.


	6. Bathing is for Suckers

6

 _"In those moments, I scream—soundlessly, so no one will come and witness the clawing, weeping, open-mouthed thing wearing my face. It's not me. Me is someone else, buried beneath the black. It's hard to remember that person over the screaming pleas for the end, though. Who am I? Could someone please call me by name? Maybe that's what I need to live again."_

Professor Davis came to me through the darkness. Light didn't come off him, but I could see winter bald trees breaking through the roof of the little one room apartment my mother and I had. I wanted to talk, but my teeth felt loose in my mouth, and I had caught sight of spiders spinning webs between the trunk of the trees and the walls of the apartment. It only made sense. Mom and I had been away for a long time.

But the weirdest thing about Professor Davis here was his expressions. It was as though another had stolen his face and placed it over their own muscles and bone.

"Don't be alone," he said. I saw another spider spread out on a hammock of thread beneath the coffee table. So dark. And as big as my hand.

I didn't like this place. I didn't have arachnophobia or anything, but I still hated spiders. The sight of them all caving into my home like that, along with the overgrown, giant, leafless trees, burned me with a desire to flee, to breath fresh air, to see the sky.

But there was no sky above me.

Professor Davis knelt down in front of me, so close that he blocked the majority of my view. He took my jaw in his hand, gently.

"Listen, Mai. It's dangerous. You can't be alone."

"I'm not," I managed to push out through my heavy loose jaws. After all, he was still there.

"You have been for a long time."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Oh, come on, I gotta roommate."

The trees started to crackle. Spiders fled from the base of the trunks, shooting across the carpet, zooming closer to me.

I flinched back, fighting to find the strength in my legs to get up. But no sooner had I stood and turned did the abyss my back had been pressing against opened up before me, framed by railings with balls carved into the bottoms. It seemed to open wider, and at the same time, the railing shorter. I couldn't get my hands to unclamp from the wood.

Something scratchy wrapped about my throat.

 _"Don't be alone."_

The professor's voice sounded farther away now, almost like an echo. But just as soon as I thought I could manage to recoil from the railing, an unknown force, like the floor had gained a mind of its own, swooped me over and down, down, down—

I woke up with a jerk. It took me a moment to comprehend my pink shaded, lacey surroundings and the faint morning sunlight making lines and hearts on the walls.

I ran both hands down my face. I hated those kinds of dreams. The falling ones. You know, when you just JERK because your body decided to have a brake check while you were almost asleep because that makes sense and doesn't mean your brain damaged at all. Frick…

After some more face rubbing and digging out sleepy sand from the corners of my eyes, I pawed over to the bedside table for the poem—

To find nothing. Just the lamp and an old school clock.

Frowning, I leaned over my bed to see if it fell off, then under the table, under the bed, behind both, and even under my pillow.

"Huh," I tapped my finger against the side of my elbow. "Weird."

Well, it wasn't all that important anyways. Just some random batshit crazy poem. Probably not even worth mentioning, though I did want to find out who had written it and why they thought my pillow was the best place to put it. Definitely wasn't a love poem, and as far as I know, at least Ayako and Takigawa knew of my distaste for poetry. I liked my expression straight forward and to the point, thank you very much.

Downstairs, Ayako stood at the huge industrial stove, flipping pancakes. At the table, Lin and the professor, already immaculate and ready for the day, ate their pancakes. Even from the doorway I could smell their aftershave and I started to regret just heading down here in a large t-shirt and the jeans I worse yesterday. I could have at least brushed my hair.

"Hey, girlfriend," Ayako gave me a friendly smile. "Pancakes?"

"Oo, yes. Three please. Dang, they look fluffy."

Her smile widened. "Just a little secret technique on my part."

They were _so_ fluffy, they were practically subway sandwich material, or better yet, actual cake.

I proceeded to ice dem cakes with syrup when Takigawa hobbled in, fresh from the bed just like me. He squinted at everyone, and sniffed.

"Pancakes?" he croaked.

"Good job, you know your shapes," Ayako handed him a plate piled with them.

He didn't say anything to that slap, only ambled over like the half-dead morning thing he was.

"Can I have some? Please?"

Ayako couldn't say anything to that. Soon, Takigawa sat next to me drowning his pancakes in syrup too.

"When you're finished, Mai, we have temperatures to record and tapes to go over. I'm going to need an analysis from you by noon."

"Freaking Mother—I just got up! Let me take a bath first at least."

"Baths take forever. Who are you trying to impress?"

"Are you seriously discouraging me from bathing?"

"No. We just have a limited time to go over a lot of information. I wouldn't be so pressed if I didn't have students to worry about teaching in the first place, I could just do it all myself."

"You know I'm not your only student."

Professor Davis looked at Takigawa and Ayako, the later which had just sat down with her own serving of pancakes. Then he snorted.

"I brought them to keep my word. They both showed signs of latent psychic power and interest, but I don't want my first set of graduates into the world to make an embarrassment of me."

"You care that much what the world thinks?"

"In this business, reputation is a big part of what separates the hobbyists and the professionals. Not all people believe in ghosts or psychics."

I sighed around a mouthful of pancakes. "It's all about you. You know what, prof? You're kind of a narcissist."

A chill silence.

"Finish your pancakes and get ready for work." He finally said, all aloof, all cool, all dumping ice upon my head.

"Fine, fine, but if I stink it's your fault."

"Don't worry. I won't be breathing through your armpits."

Takigawa snorted and choked at the same time. He plugged his nose, coughed, made some weird noises, than sat there dazed.

"Never got pancake up my nose before," he said, flashing me a grin.

Ayako just looked at him like a grownup 8 year old boy had taken Takigawa's place, and it was a smelly one.


	7. Missing the Sink and Batman

7

" _Between the episodes of 'I just wanna die' there are long stretches of weary hopelessness, possibly interspaced with blips of fresh air, where, for a moment, you feel something else. Not normal, persay, but you see the green of the leaves, taste the zing of the Thai, and hear the earnest soul moving through the passion of their music. In reality, there are much more blips of happiness than darkness, and that happiness lasts far longer than any pain, but, for some reason, we are all hyper aware of our pain, like dogs being trained by a cattle prod. Only takes one or two shocks to get the message across. We remember it. Possibly for the rest of our lives_.

 _But it doesn't make the happy times any less worth it."_

Temperature readings came first. Then I got to sit at the monitors and watch a sorta fast forward speed run of the night. Lin sat next to me through all this, dark circles under his eyes from night watch.

"Dude, head to bed. You're not his underling in teaching torture."

Lin didn't even look at me. "I'm making sure you don't miss anything."

I shivered. Awesome cool voice. If I could just pop it into a seashell, like Ursala. "You mean something actually happened?"

He just looked at me. I felt heat spread across my neck.

"Lin's right," said the prof from across the room, where he was going through some random data of who knew what. I'd probably find out soon. "If you already know what you're looking for, you won't have the experience of having to find it for yourself."

"Is it necessary to test positive for psychic whatever to come on these trips with you?"

"No." A click of the laptop. "I plan on having those in my upper classes take an entire semester of cases. But, since you are the first generation…" he gave me a look not much different from Lin's.

Since I was first generation, there wasn't anybody qualified to take the upper classes yet.

"Sooo…this is like an extra credit course?"

"Are you listening?" said Lin sharply, taping the headphones on my head.

Oh, yeah. I was listening to the EMT while watching some of the tapes. A program filtered out the white noise, and every now and again I'd hear a scuffle or a horn outside. So far, at 4am, only one person had got up to flush the John. Good night, all in all.

But I had to watch the recordings for EACH camera…

Fast forward or not, by the time I finally finished it was 11:30. Lin had left for bed hours ago, and Naru had popped in and out to call the others to watch with me, but it was only me he looked at when the final tape finished.

"Analysis," he ordered.

"Yes, Boss," I said as robotically as I could. "There were cold spots around the banister and stairs as well as near several rooms, but only for small amounts of time. Only one stayed put the entire time, suggesting it is naturally caused and there's a drainage of heat there."

"Window or door?" he said.

"A vent," I said. And yes, we were expected to include those in our temperature reports. "And, there was this one sound clip."

I had left the video paused on it just to impress my boss.

The sound that came out was muffled, blipped with white noise, but the sound had the same cadence as a woman's voice, raising and falling to words I couldn't quite make out.

"As far as I know, Ayako sleeps like a mummy, but the sound wasn't near my room or hers. It came from the unused guestroom 6 on the top floor."

"Well, answers the question if a tree falls in a forest…" said Takigawa, shrugging.

"No sightings?" he asked. "Or breaks in taping or the like?"

"I do listen in class, I know, shocker, and no. Nothing that I couldn't explain."

"Is that all you have to report?"

Ugh, like asking in Who Wants To Be a Millionaire, 'is that your final answer?' Makes you all uncertain and plaintive.

"So…far?"

"Well, let's hear from your peers before we get the final answer from Lin."

Great way to fill me with confidence, Boss.

But, it soon became apparent that Takigawa and Ayako had not much more to add to that. Several guesses as to what the womanly-like voice could have been saying, but the prof stopped them from theorizing about why there were so many cold spots around the stairs.

"It is crucial that we do not apply our hypothesis at this step. It can and will distort how we see that data. Save it for the end."

"Or when you're dangling from a rope over the banister," I said, because Takigawa and Ayako didn't have masochistic death-by-handsome-professor wishes.

I had remembered the dream I had the night before, and the rough something around my neck had connected in my head as a noose.

Unnervingly, the prof seemed to catch that.

"Did you dream that last night?" he asked.

I gave him a blank look. "Yes…?"

He sat back into his Xavier pose, hands held folded horizontally in front of his chest, almost like a too-low shelf for his jaw should it drop.

"What did you dream last night?"

I blinked again, as I had never thought that my dreams had been any reason as to why he brought me. I mean, I had a dream about him, for heaven's sake. Maybe he really is a narcissist…just wanted to bring along a girl that dreams of him.

That thought made me even more reluctant to rehearse it, as, yes, the professor had been in there.

Once I finished describing it to the best of my abilities, forcing through that, yes, he had been there and saying stuff in front of the watching ears of my classmates, I tried to keep a straight, 'this is just a report, I'm a pro' look on my face. Was this going to start being a thing? Oh dear lord, please let me not have an inappropriate dream with my professor in it. Yes, he's cute, but no, I don't want to encourage that. Negative two and ten, man. Negative two and ten.

As usual, the prof was very good with the poker face.

"That's a very symbolically heavy dream," he said, after a minute or so of unnerving quiet.

"Spiders tend to do that," I said dryly.

"Everyone has dreams with spiders in it."

"Yes," said Professor Davis. "But the placement of symbols next to…other indicators can give evidence of a measure of clairvoyance. And since she passed my test for having a clairvoyant type instinct, it isn't a bad idea to be open to all the possible areas it could be expressed in."

Takigawa let out a low whistle. "Clairvoyance? You gonna be telling the future and stuff?"

I wrinkled my nose at him. "What did you test positive for."

Takigawa grinned and stuck a thumb to his chest.

"High spiritual power, man. Not in my brain at all. It's in my soul."

Ayako faked a gag. "How can you even test a soul?"

"Through…quizzes?" he looked to the professor. "Help me out here, sir?"

The prof shrugged. "I had three slots to fill and you're my only Buddhist student. Christian exorcists are far more common than Buddhist, and yet Buddhist has a longer history of expelling spirits that didn't go through a dark age."

Takigawa gaped at him. "You brought me…because of my religion?"

The prof gave a straight-lipped kind of wicked smirk, except a straight line was probably the closest he'd ever get to smirk.

"And because of your religious sensitivity," he shrugged. "You can do all the moves of being religious and devote, but it doesn't matter an inch if you're heart's not in it. That's harder to find than you think."

"That wasn't me though, right?" said Ayako, nervously. "I mean, I don't really have any sort of... religion…"

"You tested positive to at least a small level of PK-L, a psychic-kinetic effect over living objects. How that is expressed I'm also keeping an eye out for, but I suspect it may have to do with plants."

She gave him a bland look. "Since I'm allergic to most things furry?"

"It's just a guess on my part."

"Got to wait till the end to hypothesize," I said. No, it wasn't because I wanted all his attention. No, it wasn't because I liked playing word smack with him…

Shut up.

He gave me another one of those cool glances. He didn't answer me.

"In that case," he got to his feet. "I'll go wake up Lin. He didn't leave a report to me, so there couldn't have been anything major."

He went out. I listened to his steps on the staircase, tap tap.

"Speaking of people flirting like ten-year-olds," Takigawa aimed a smirk at me. "You and the prof? Really?"

Face-Flame on!

"Are you kidding me? He's ten, I'm like negative two, that would be suicidal!"

Ayako wrinkled her nose again. "Negative two?"

"You know, on a scale of one to ten, he's like a ten—"

She snorted—loudly. "More like an 8. The personality ruins the face."

"He's like batman," I said with a grin. "All grim and serious and sarcastic and no-nonsense business."

"Well, if you go by that," said Ayako, "Any guy who doesn't say too much and happens to be around you when they say something rather dry could pass."

I dropped my head back. "Point is, it ain't going to happen, I'm not suicidal," but maybe masochistic. "End of story."

Takigawa, however, was frowning.

"I wouldn't say you're a negative 2."

"Not fishing for compliments," I said to the wall behind me.

"Oh, come on, you totally want to be rated by a guy." He smiled, showing all his teeth. "I promise, you're over a five."

"I really don't want to know." And I didn't. I had lost interest in dating guys…almost as soon as I got interested, really. Maybe having your mom die on you and you being afraid of being a psychopath could do that. And high school boys were shy, delicate creatures. Unless encouraged by the girl, they usually hid.

"You're like a seven and a half."

"Kid, she said she didn't want to know!" snapped Ayako.

"Kid? Just how old are you?"

"Younger than you are, most likely."

'Twenty-seven. What are you? Thirty?" he snorted. "Communications major?"

Stink eye of death from Ayako. "Pre-med major, thank you very much, with a communications minor. Communicating effectively is half the work in finding the cure."

"Says who?"

"Says her dad," I said, bringing my head up to give him a droll stare. "Her parents head a hospital. Don't start this battle. You won't win."

I couldn't miss the sense of gratitude Ayako wafted my way.

The prof came back in then, looking almost shrimpy next to his very tall, broad-shouldered assistant. Lin had the squinty look of the newly woken up, but other than that there was not a trace of sleep on him. Hair brushed, button up shirt and tie, slacks, jee whizz.

"You missed movement on camera 5, around 03.45 hour, thirty seconds into the minute."

That made us all flinch. Movement? Hardcore movement? How could we have missed that?

We wasted no time spinning back around in our chairs and bringing up camera five info. I did the clicking through the computer as Ayako and Takigawa hanged over my shoulders and egged me faster with their body heat.

It was a camera set in one of the private baths (we had cloths and rubber bands to put over the camera when we were doing our business—hopefully nothing came to haunt us in our most private moments). I had to look to the map real quick to see who's room the bathroom was attached to, and I was surprised to see it was the professor's.

We wouldn't have seen it if we hadn't been looking for it. A fuzz of shadow, the faucet handle turned, not making a sound. The nozzle of the faucet was one of those bamboo shaped ones though, made to let out water as quietly as physically possible, so I barely caught the little tap of water meeting sink.

The professor closed his eyes and smirked. "Had to turn that off myself this morning."

The three of us students gave in sync groans of 'you just lost the game.'

"And that wasn't even a weird flicker or anything, that was hardcore," moaned Takigawa.

"In my defense, you two had already close to finished camera 5 when I came in," said Ayako.

"What were you doing all morning?"

"What do you think?" She flicked her hair, and I did take notice of her usually perfect makeup job. "Mai can be in boot camp, but I certainly don't have to."

Meanwhile, I had my head back again and my hands over my eyes, muttering to myself.

"Moving object…water…voice…temperature fluctuations of varying intensity, though nothing over three-degree difference…" Then suicide. "Do we have a map of where the suicides occurred?"

"Only a few. The rest are mere death certificates," said the prof. "And the few that occurred were hanging off the balcony on the third floor. Though one was an overdose of sedatives in one of the rooms on the second floor, but I'm not sure where."

Oh, yeah, that was comforting. Dead people. Wait, it was. Meant there was actually something here to see…maybe.

"Do we have the results of foundation testing and all that like, for settling and gas possibilities?" I asked.

"I requested that before I came. They've been done, and the foundation is sound. Natural gas isn't even equipped to this house."

"What other natural causes could…?"

"Very good, Mai. Ruling out natural causes before moving on to the supernatural."

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Takigawa giggled a bit and muttered, "and we're the ten-year-olds?"

The prof ignored him, probably because he knew just as well as I did that he was way out of my league, both in the station of being student and teacher and also because…TEN, man, TEN! And negative two!

"A common suicide method is to slit your wrists in the bathtub, using the running water to cover any sounds you might make," said Ayako, finger to her chin.

"Natural causes first," I said.

"I know that, it was just a thought. What could possibly turn on a sink by itself?"

"You'd be surprised," said the professor. "A change in water pressure on one poorly installed faucet can do a variety of tricks."

I'd never heard of that. Though it did make me groan to myself. I didn't even have a clue how to do a water pressure test on the house, let alone on a single sink. I didn't think knowledge of plumbing was necessary to hunt ghosts. Though the prof had mentioned that one must be a jack of all trades, in a way, knowing a little bit of everything—or, rather, in his words, "enough of everything."

"Mai, I'll walk you through a water test after lunch," he said. "Ayako, Takigawa, you may watch but do your best not to squabble. I don't want to hear it."

"Ditto to you," said Takigawa.

The prof gave him the cool stare. "Excuse me?"

"You know, like the Poke'mon!"

….nice save, Takigawa. That was sarcasm. Why the freak would we be talking about Poke'mon?

Thankfully, the prof wasn't all that interested in delving into that pack of Japanese merchandise.

"If there aren't any requests to cook lunch—"

"I will!" crowed Takigawa.

The professor just shrugged.

 **Author's note: I'm so sorry if her Jacky Chan references offended you or made this uncomfortable to read! I got rid of it the moment someone pointed out. I hope you all know I'm not racist in the least. I actually almost considered getting a degree in anthropology. ^.^ I love variety and differences. Next time I do something offensive, please don't hesitate to tell me, especially if you'd really love the story other than that one part. Again, so sorry! I have fixed. Enjoy.**


	8. Hippity Hoppity Boo

**Because I'm on a roll and I figured you should benefit from my good fortune.**

8

" _There's a reason most movies and books about the arts are pretty much an elaborated 'follow your dreams!' pep talk. Trying to be successful with art is the definition of discouraging. Everyone has their own taste, and the internet just waters down everything further. We don't need to pay anyone to get our art anymore, it's floating around in the ether, free for grabs. Why pay for art when you can just get something else equally good for free online?_

 _And most of these movies were made before the internet was a big thing, which means it was discouraging even back in 'the good ol' days.'_

 _You're welcome."_

Actually, learning about how to do a water pressure test was pretty interesting. Through it, I vicariously learned how to rebuild the plumbing of an entire sink if I had to. Mario Mai is in the house. I found I got a lot less flack from professor Naru (for narcissist, because he really is, you should have heard him gloating at lunch) when I actually got involved and expressed my enjoyment too. Because, obviously, he must not have noticed that in class. All he saw was my Bugs Bunny essays and that one time he caught me sleeping.

I don't do well on low sleep, okay? Graveyard shifts would kill me.

Which is why I just stared when he asked me if I was ready for my first night shift.

"You are to accurately keep all the records of the temperatures as well as any phenomenon that could be even remotely possible. If anything major occurs, you can wake me, but otherwise, we'll be reviewing the recordings tomorrow." The straight-line of a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "Hopefully, you don't miss anything major again."

"Your faith in me is riveting," I said.

"Would you like a coffee or anything to help?"

"You got any Monster drinks?"

Hey, why'd I get the cool stare for that! Does drinking Monster energy drinks when I did (attempted) all-nighters make me an automatic moron in his eyes?

"I'd prefer to get you coffee," he said.

"Fine, but I like them really sweet and with lots of cream."

"That will dilute the caffeine."

"Then just get me a Monster. Why do you care anyway? Caffeine is caffeine, either way, I'm not going to get a heart attack and die from it."

He sighed, as he often did around me, and left the parlor. I had just gotten comfortable in my chair with my legs cross in the lotus position and my elbows on my knees when he came back in.

"Wow, that was quick."

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you expect me to hunt down a Starbucks?"

He set a large thermos in front of me. I sniffed it. Yep. Coffee. Anything else of dubious nature I'd find out once it cooled.

"A 'your welcome' would be nice."

"Welcome," I tried to breathe in the steam to get a bit of the taste. There was a scent of sweetness in there.

I expected something smart alick about how that wasn't good enough or some final reminders of things that would make me feel like an idiot, but he just walked out. Almost made the room feel colder, but that had to be in my head. The thermostat next to my hand hadn't even flickered.

The first hour or so, I did alright. Takigawa and Ayako stopped by before heading in to wish me well in my caffeinated endeavor. Lin came by too, but it was just to make sure that everything was working because perish the thought that I couldn't make sure a camera was turned on.

Then came the quiet…and the boredom.

Since I was wearing headphones, I thought about getting away with playing on my phone, but then the memory of the prof crucifying me where I drooled on my desk crossed my mind. Let's just say, for once, I could get him to praise me. Just once…

Oh, what a lofty dream

Still, it made my heart speed up and warm.

Around midnight, though, I was sucking at the coffee like an IV and nodding off at the same time.

"This can't be happening," I said across the aftertaste of Irish Creamer. The prof's homemade coffee wasn't all that bad.

I'd heard two people flush the toilet, and the distant sound of traffic worked better on me than a lullaby. _Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh_. Like freaking ocean waves.

I took off the headphones to clear the sweat that had gathered there. It was then that I noticed the sound of rain on the windows.

Aw great…rain made me want to sleep even more. Especially when I thought about it being a cold, late October rain. Then I wanted to curl up in Mom's comforter and nurse an apple cider, not this strong coffee stuff.

To rest my strained hearing, I gave myself a moment to sip and close my eyes, which were burning from staring at monitors.

"There's got to be a better way of doing this…" but even as I looked at the back of my eyelids, an image rose up, half transparent in the way half-awake dreams are. It was difficult to make out, except I could see…the prof? Or rather, my subconscious's version of him, because he was smiling at me in a strange, soft way, like he thought I was cute or something…

 _Naru's hurt._

I jerked awake. There had been something else, but those words were the only ones that stood out enough. Slapping my cheeks and shaking my head, I looked back over the monitors, lingering on the ones over Naru's bathroom and bedroom area.

Naru hadn't moved a muscle. He still lay on his side, dark hair sprawled across the pillows, fast asleep. All the black of the darkness and his hair brought out the paleness of his face, half lit by orange street light. The infrared square in the corner told me nothing had changed in the temperature.

Yeah, watching for ghosts makes you kind of a creep.

Still, an uneasy feeling had filled my stomach, not unlike the anxiety that you had forgotten something important…like your PJs.

 _It wouldn't hurt to check on him…_

Not to mention a short walk would help my legs wake up.

After a good stretch, I got up and padded my socked way to the second floor, where I knew his room to be.

I knocked first. "Prof?"

When I heard nothing, my stomach lurched a bit. My hand on the doorknob had become clammy.

"Professor?" I opened the door.

A trickle of something musky, kind of like bread ovens and leather, wafted over me. I instantly recognized it as his scent, but when I had been close enough to smell him I couldn't remember. Maybe when he took off his coat in the entryway?

I tiptoed to the bed.

"Professor Davis."

Gal, I'd never taken him for a heavy sleeper. More like the type to stay half-way awake at all times so he could sear any idiots who dared to walk past his room.

It wasn't till I was beside him and looking down at his face, striped with that orange light, that I said, "Naru."

His eyes snapped open. At the sight of me, he shot up, rubbing his face hard.

"What happened?" Straight to business. He didn't even sound like he had been asleep. Really hope he wasn't laying there just listening to me call him professor over and over. That's not exactly sexy.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" I asked.

He lowered his hand to just look over it at me. I couldn't make out the expression on his dark eyes.

"What made you think that I would be?"

I threw up my hands, which were still sweating, by the way. "I just—" I couldn't say I'd fallen asleep. "Got this feeling you were—I mean, I got these words in my head that you were hurt and I even kinda saw you being creepy smiley again…" Oh gravy, I shouldn't have come up here. That all sounded way worse than it actually was. "Nevermind, I'm sorry. I'll go back."

I turned, but he caught my wrist.

"What did you just call me?"

"Uh…huh?"

"When I woke up, you didn't call me professor."

My stomach, which had been all over the place before, backed up and hid behind my liver.

"Naru?"

He blinked. I could make that much out.

"Where did you get that from?"

"Um, well, I was just sort of thinking the other day how you were acting like a narcissist and Naru sounded a lot like narcissist…" I stopped. "Wait, they hardly sound alike. Except the 'nar'." Narcy would have worked better, now that I was really thinking about it.

When he didn't say anything else, but still kept a hold on my wrist, I became hyper aware of that bread and leather scent, and that I was alone in my professor's room, next to his bed.

He let go just as I was about to say something about that.

"Are you falling asleep already? Do I need to get one of the others up with you?"

Huh. That was rather nice. "Ayako is really crabby when her beauty sleep is interrupted, and I don't want to bother Takigawa. He's, uh," what, thinks I'm a seven? Oh, excuse me, seven and a half. Why wasn't I flattered?

The prof gave a nod.

"I'll come down then. At least with me sleeping on the couch, you'll be more likely to stay on your toes, in case I catch you nodding off."

Why did that make my heart speed up and warm again? Shut up, organs! I'm a negative two—no, that didn't even matter, no. Just, no.

"If that's what you want, Prof. But I can do it myself."

He raised an eyebrow.

I scowled. "Don't look so disbelieving. You don't know my sleeping habits."

"You're the type that falls asleep anywhere at the drop of a dime if they don't get their full 8 hours of sleep."

I flinched. "Okay, that's just creepy."

"Not that hard to tell," he swung his legs around and pushed to his feet. I couldn't help but stare a bit as he gathered his blanket about his shoulders, swamping him and making him look younger than ever. "Lead on."

I could practically feel his cute, blanket garbed shuffling behind me as I went back stairs.

Yeah, this was weird.

"I'm sorry for waking you up. You really can go to bed."

"You wouldn't have gotten that dream if you hadn't been falling asleep."

Another flinch on my part. "Oh, come on, I wasn't asleep."

"About to."

"But I didn't. Besides, if my dreams are so important to you, why keep me up all night?"

"Doing night watches are part of the business. Not everything can be caught on a recording. Especially when one has to also be awake and listening to their clairvoyance."

Why did that feel like another jab?

In the parlor, I swiftly returned to my seat and did a quick glance over of all the screens, jamming the headphones on my head. Just rain. Oh, and that cold spot had returned on the third floor in the empty guest room.

"Huh. That one cold spot's back."

The prof looked over my shoulder as he passed, giving me an especially strong whiff of the bread and leather again.

"Hmm. We should check it out."

"Then who would be watching the cameras?"

"One of us can watch the cameras while the other goes up." He thought for a moment. "How about you go? It will be a good experience for you. I'll call you if anything happens, so you won't be alone."

Why did I suddenly feel like he was trying to avoid me being alone? Oh, well, if my dreams were a sort of prophetic thing, the one I'd had with all the spiders had been 'don't be alone'ish. Maybe he's just being cautious.

Though I didn't think that's what dream-him meant. Not just physically alone…

"Besides, some more exercise will help you stay up." He nudged my shoulder to get out of the seat. I complied.

"Oh, wow, why do I feel so impressed with your chivalry?"

Cue the cool 'you're stupid' stare.

"Okay, okay, I'm going, stop looking so demeaning. Frick, rude."

"Have your phone on you?"

"Yeah?"

He hesitated. "You weren't playing on it while you were watching—"

"No," I said, actually happy I could answer honestly. "I actually do take my studies seriously, you know."

"Why? Have an especially deep interest in horror novels?"

Yes, but that wasn't the point.

"Whatever," he said before I could come up with something to say. "Just go while the cold spot is still there."

I did so, shivering as my once warm feet chilled on the steps. By the time I was halfway up the third staircase, I could feel the burning in my calves and began to debate taking up a PE class. Yeah, I'd always been more into reading books in a warm corner than running around, but seriously, this was just sad.

I prayed to whoever was listening that Naru couldn't hear my light panting on the watching cameras.

 _There's that name again…_

I had been so ridiculously pleased with myself. I had thought myself so funny and creative. Nevermind the fact that he…wait, the professor hadn't been a bit offended. Then again, he didn't strike me as the person to be offended easily. Easy to talk you down and talk smack, maybe, not actually be hurt. He was above that.

I came back to the present with another nervous jerk of my stomach as I wrapped my hand around the door handle. It was one of the few doors that had retained their old fashion, crystal-like doorknobs, and the edges had been smoothed by hands over time.

This time, the waft of someone's scent didn't go over me. The bedroom smelled of the same cleaners that had been used in the rest of the mansion. It was pitch dark. Not even the streetlights made it around the curtains, either because I had reached a shaded side of the house or the room just had those awesome, hotel-grade blackout curtains.

My toes hit the edge of the carpet after two steps in. It was stiff enough to hurt my cold toes. I hissed through my teeth, but after wagging my foot around, I stepped further in.

 _Now, where had the cold spot been?_ I took a moment to recall where the camera was and the situation of the cold spot. It had been somewhere next to the bed, on the right side? Maybe?

When a wave of chill air went over me, raising all the hair on my body, I knew I had found it.

Okay, now what?

"Hello?" I asked, feeling really stupid and knowing my professor would have a whole bag of flack to give me when I got back.

I stood there for a moment, trying to clear my mind as instructed in step one of ghost hunting. It was always crucial to have a clear mind…

But once I had cleared my mind, the prof's question ran through my head.

 _Why?_

I didn't have to answer that. Not about Mom. Not about being a sociopath. Not about being alone.

Really alone.

The last time I had a best friend? The last time I thought about getting a boyfriend? The last time I had cried in front of someone—the last time I had actually cried? Even as I thought on it, concluding to myself that my subconscious had meant these other types of loneliness, I felt colder. Where were my emotions? Why, even now, in the midst of a possible ghost, did I still feel so numb?

But I hadn't been numb. Hadn't my heart been warming and doing the hippity hop crap?

Well, hormones could do that to a body. The prof was unfairly hot.

But was it no wonder that no one wanted to be my friend? Or, once they got close enough, they would know…they would reach in, reaching for me, and feel nothing. No affection, no support, no nothing…

All a sudden, the sheer gaping lack of connection fell over me, gaping, dark, and impossibly heavy.

I was alone. No one cared.

I leaned my head back and sat down on the bed, tired. I knew these thoughts. It was the truth, whispering to me again. _You didn't even morn the loss of your last family…_

 _You'll always be like this._

My phone vibrated against my leg. I jumped and pulled it out of my pants pocket.

"Yeah, Prof?"

"Why are you just sitting there?"

"Just sat down. I am tired, you know." Tired. So tired.

I got a silence filled with the sound of his disbelief. Sitting? On a case? With a ghost? Though, now that I thought about it, the air wasn't even cold anymore. At least I had stopped shivering.

"Get back down here."

He hung up on me, and I sighed into the black. I could suddenly understand the random desire to please the prof. Why I hadn't just played solitaire or whatever. I was reaching for connection again. What, did I think his aloofness would apply to my lack of soul? That he would just blink at me with that cool 'you're stupid' stare and move along, unfazed by the lack of feeling in me?

Back downstairs, the heaviness lingered.

The prof turned about imperiously in the swivel chair.

"What was that about?"

I blinked. "I just sat down, nothing big."

"You didn't just sit down. Something changed. You're whole posture, the temp—what were you thinking?"

"Thinking? Oh, nothing. Just about being tired." A cold jaw clamped about the voice in my head answering his question.

I was an idiot, but I wasn't going to be that much of an idiot.

He looked at me for a few seconds longer, measuring me, I knew, then he got up and went to the couch, dragging his blanket behind him like a kingly robe. I couldn't help but smile a bit at that. Man, this guy…

"Did you feel anything?" he asked.

It would be harder to fudge things here. "I did feel the cold spot. Made all my hair rise up, like a hedgehog."

"Anything else?"

"…Kind of lonely, I guess. Because it was so dark."

He considered this. Meanwhile, I snapped the headphones back on and looked to the screen. The cold spot had moved from the room. Now it was just the various other dotted cold spots that had occurred in the last recordings. They came up every twenty minutes or so.

Through the quiet of the headphones, I heard him speak.

"Tell me a bit about yourself."

"I still need to listen," I said.

"It will record," he said, totally ignoring the fact that he had just said the whole reason I was even awake was that I had to catch things the sensors did not. "What caught your interest about parapsychology? It can't be my rugged good looks."

Oh god, he really was a narcissist.

I shrugged. "I guess it…makes me more comfortable with the dead." There, that was true enough.

"You're afraid of them?"

"Not particularly." I sighed. "Okay, I do like horror novels a bit. There, mock me."

"So you'd have no reason to be uncomfortable, it seems. Why do you need more comfort?"

Ok, no. "Naru, it's getting seriously creepy, you asking all these personal questions. What happened to the aloof, I-don't-care-about-your-pathetic-lives professor I'm used to?"

"I'm not that heartless. Though you are right, I don't particularly care to know the private life of my students."

Every essay he'd torn apart in front of the whole class begged to differ that he didn't just not care about private life or that flat way he was never impressed with any of our answers.

But he did stop prodding. I drank some more coffee, burned my eyes a bit more on the screens and eventually got a tension headache behind them. Cold spots drifted across the wall of screens like blue foxfires drifting through a forest of green night vision.

Until they actually became little fires, drifting about me in the darkness. It had gotten cold, and the little fires did nothing to warm me.

 _No one would care. No one would even know._

I leaned my head back, breathing into the heavy cold within me. The heavy knowledge I held so tightly for so long.

 _Mom, I'm sorry. You can come home now. I'll help you with the money. Let me get to know you again, please._

Because, besides her Navajo bed cover, I had forgotten. Even the smell she had left that put me to sleep so well was gone.


	9. I See Dead People

9

" _The most difficult part about these dark episodes is that it's nigh impossible to comprehend feeling better ever again. You bring up good memories, promise yourself you will experience that again, but all you can see is this pain going on until then, and then continuing once the joy had run out. You beginning believing that life is nothing but suffering, with bits of happiness to string you along. You begin to lose hope. You begin to lose interest in doing anything, being around anyone, because, really, what was the point? You're going to be broken like this forever."_

When I woke up I had Naru's blanket around my shoulders and a semi-permanent impression of the edge of the control panel on my forehead. I sat up, and instantly seized up. Oh gal, my back. Note to self, never fall asleep sitting up or at a desk every again.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, the boss wasn't anywhere to be seen and the light through the window gave the time to be still somewhat early morning, though it could have been later since daylight savings crap was coming in a few weeks.

 _Better do something before he gets back to call down the lightning of his disappointment on your sorry, masochistic ass._

Doing my best to try and stretch the cramps out of my neck, shoulders, spine, ow, I slammed the headphones back on my head and took a quick check of all the screens. I looked at my records and sighed at the blank spots for temperature readings since somewhere at three o'clock. There had been a tiny bitty hope in my heart that he had been nice enough to do my work as well as putting a blanket over my shoulders, but for all I knew he had put that on me moments before I had woken up.

I jumped when he magically appeared in the doorway. Good crap, this guy needed a bell or something. Did he always walk like a ninja? Oh, socks. That might do it. Still….

He held two mugs. One he set before me. I smelled a citrusy tea, milky with creamer.

"Is this my consolation prize?" I asked.

"No. You flunked. Best you get to practicing those all-nighters like a normal college student."

I sighed into my tea, letting my breath puff the good smell over my tired, itchy face.

"Fine. I'll get into some crazy parties and tell everyone my professor ordered me too."

"Then you'd just fall asleep at parties," he said flatly. _And get raped or something_ , I heard.

I sighed again. Man, I felt awful. Heavy, tired, exhausted both mentally and physically. It was like my brain had been running laps all night, jee whiz.

"Best you get to bed," he said, raising his own teacup to his face. "We'll review tapes when you get up. I'll get Takigawa to do temperature readings while you sleep."

I nodded, and took my first sip of the tea. Lemon, mint, and strange sweet aftertaste followed. Licorice root? Maybe? No more of the Irish Creamer, though. Just straight milk, which was good. I didn't feel like eating anything, let alone sweet, as most often do when they first woke up I suspect.

For a while, in the early morning, cold sunlight, we sipped tea and I watched monitors, almost as an afterthought.

Then, when I was done, I went back upstairs and into bed.

Something like two exhausting hours passed when I opened my eyes from a light doze with the distinct feeling that I hadn't really gotten any sleep. I closed my eyes for a few more minutes, but the sun was high in the sky and beating through the edges of the mighty blackout curtains.

Accepting the fate that my body's melatonin levels had been used up, or something, I got up to enjoy my first awesome bath in the claw-foot tub. I scrubbed myself good, glad that I had at least not forgotten my toiletries.

As I sat there, I thought of the night before, and the return of those thoughts. Or, rather, they had never left. I had just stopped actively paying attention to them. Five years gave you plenty of time to get used to something like your own petty insecurities.

As I shaved my legs, I suddenly remembered Ayako mentioning that a common method of suicide was to slit your wrists in the bath. Pfft, if I did that, they wouldn't find me until tomorrow. Or until the time the prof lost patience and wanted his 'sole legit parapsychology major' to get back to work. Jeeze, it was like he didn't even consider Takigawa and Ayako. Why'd he ever bring them, then?

I got out. Dried off. Lotioned up. Deodorant. Dressed in clean, warm clothes.

It was the simple things that counted.

Downstairs, I could hear everyone around the mansion, but the kitchen was empty. For a minute I daydreamed of the warmth it would have had with the old school wood fire stove and deep, bucket-like sink, and red-fired tiles.

Then I went to the fridge to dig out some milk for cereal, that I then found in one of the totes in the corner. I glanced at the camera as I poured. Who could be watching? Lin? Though noticeably, spiritual activity did lessen in the night, since spirits were naturally shy, and daytime naturally distracting. That was most of the problem with daytime, I remember the prof saying. At night there were far fewer distractions so we'd notice spiritual activity more.

At some point, Takigawa wondered in, yawning, even though it was almost eleven and he had obviously been awake for a while, dressed and ready to go.

"Hey, Mai. Want me to cook you up some eggs or something?"

"I can cook my own eggs just fine if I want to, Mom," I said with a smile.

"Alright. If you're sure." He returned the smile. "Pity, I was hoping you'd be all sleepy like you were last Wednesday." He mimicked me squinting and scowling, then hissed, "The lights. The life."

I chewed on that. I'm glad I was able to provide him with entertainment.

He came round to lean against the counter I was eating on. The stool just aggravated my cramped up back even more. "So, get any action last night?"

I swallowed. "Do you have to say it like that? No, other than checking out a cold spot, I didn't catch anything."

"Well, you did fall asleep at some point."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "No way, is the Prof squealing on me?"

"Actually, he just sort of mentioned it in passing in telling us not to be too loud," a wry sort of smirk replaced his friendly smile. "Seemed to think you needed your precious sleep."

"Probably because I'd make an even more frustrating student sleep deprived," though my hear did do a little jump.

Takigawa snorted. "Professor Davis is a heartless demon from hell. Him saying that—dude, he might like you, you know?"

For some reason, that irritated me. "He's not heartless, and I thought I was a seven and a half?"

"A full eight when you're sleepy," he said, squinting again. "The liiiiiightssss. Diiiiiieee."

"Whatever. I'm really not interested in dating or guys, Takigawa."

He gave me a strange look. "Not to be weird, but why not? When was the last time you had a boyfriend?"

"Never had one."

That made him stare. "Never…what? That's not true."

"True."

"But you're not ugly enough to be ignored by guys or shy or…come on, you had at least offers, right?"

"I'm nineteen," I said flatly. "And I spend my time studying and working. I don't exactly flirt with every guy I meet on campus."

"High school?"

I snorted at that. Shy, tender things, little boys, remember?

Maybe that's another reason I liked the Prof. He was a full grown man.

I mentally smacked that thought away.

"Huh," he blinked, watching me as I downed another few spoonfuls of Honey-Nut Cheerios. "How 'bout trying it out with me then?"

I choked, getting some milk up my nose. I managed to clear out my system, grateful that it at least wasn't pancakes.

"Huh? You actually..."

"Well, I definitely think you're cute and funny, but we can keep it casual. You know, till we know each other better. I know you're not in love with me or anything." He fingered his chin. "Have you ever even been in love?"

That struck me more than I would ever admit.

"I've had crushes on boys back in high school," I said, remembering when I had considered some cute boys and gotten a bit nervous.

More quiet, with him waiting as I downed some more cereal.

"So?"

"So?" I repeated.

"Wanna go out? At least on a date? It would be fun, promise."

I looked at him for a moment, considering him, as well as the reason why my insides had gone cold rather than excited and giddy.

The heavy loneliness came to mind…and Mom's bed…

This was serious. Takigawa was opening up to me. I could hurt him.

"I don't think you'd like it," I said, with a smile. "I've got loads of baggage. You don't want to date me."

"Won't you let me decide that for myself?"

"I'd rather not chance it. Besides, you're, like, my most entertaining friend in class. Wouldn't want to ruin that."

He did look a little startled by me calling him a friend. I wasn't. I had lots of 'classmate' friends, the ones you only saw at school. Ayako was perhaps the closest thing to a friend friend that I got. I had some in high school, but…never got all that close.

Takigawa's surprise turned into a frown. "That ain't fair, Mai. If you don't want to date me just say so."

"Sounds like enough of a no to me."

Ayako walked in, hair tied up and looking flustered with an arm full of paperwork. She didn't so much as look at me as glare in my general direction.

"Guess who's had to deal with the stick-up-his-ass professor while you've been asleep?" she said.

Takigawa, however, bristled.

"This isn't any of your business," he said, softly.

"No, it isn't, but she is my roommate, and I don't like boys pressuring girls anyways." She sniffed. "Hurry up and finish, Mai. I can't handle that man anymore."

I gulped down my milk, tossed my plastic plate in the trash, and trodded after her, trying to look as much in a rush as possible to avoid meeting Takigawa's eyes.

The professor was waiting for me back in the swivel chair, seemingly rewatching a set of clips from the night before.

"Ah, Mai," he said without even bothering to look. "Review time."

I sighed. My favorite part.

"I've looked over the rest of the recordings and Lin is now on watch," he pushed back. "The recordings are on the laptop. You can watch them on that." He closed it and handed it out to me with the same pair of headphones I had used the night before.

I morosely took them and slipped them back on. Watching night videos for ghosts wasn't nearly as fun after the night it had happened.

I saw the flickering cold spots again, including the constant one over the air vent. I tried to take better note of them this time, but they varied from place to place I came to the conclusion that it didn't much matter. Either the house had an unsteady draft or there was ghost activity sparking everywhere for no reason. That would be weird. I went for the unsteady draft.

Gal, were there any ghosts here at all? I mean, yeah, the water pressure test passed fine, but it was just a water handle. Nothing that could actually kill someone.

What felt like hours later, I pulled off the headphones. "Nothing, Prof. Just more cold spots."

"And you'd be right on that," he said from where he was eating his sandwich in the corner, while Lin sat at the monitors. "The most activity was with you and that cold spot in the third-floor room and how it affected me."

I frowned. "Affected me?"

He did the heavy sigh. Oh, this girl is just so stupid, why is she my student? "I'm not an idiot. You came back unlike yourself. Then there was that dream."

I cocked my head to the side. "So you were hurting?"

"No. Actually, I was having a rather pleasant dream before you woke me up." He leaned over to pick up a thermos and sipped from it.

I dropped it. I wasn't all that interested for some reason anyway. Too worn out. "How many days of this do we have left?"

"Four."

Ugh. Why did that sound like such a pain to me? Maybe I was just missing my bed and Mom's yellowed downy pillow.

Or maybe an all-nighter just did me in. Even if I had only made it to three in the morning.

Pathetic. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this. Maybe that's what this whole field trip was supposed to do: weed out those who weren't fit for ghost hunting from the naturals.

Ayako walked in a few minutes later with a pack of Uno cards. "Yo, Mai, I'm bored. Play Uno with me."

I looked to the prof, who hadn't even looked up from his own laptop, the screen of which he was scrutinizing. Probably random numbers and data or something. You know, super genius stuff.

So I shrugged. "Is Takigawa playing? It's not all that fun playing Uno with just two people."

"Yeah, he's just finishing temperatures now—"

A loud shout upstairs made us all jump. Despite being pinned down by a laptop, Naru was the first out of his seat and to the stairs.

"Takigawa!" he shouted. "What's going on?"

"I-I-there's someone…I thought…"

He started making his way upstairs, Ayako and me on his heels. Despite the juicy something that could have been happening, Lin kept his butt in the seat and eyes to the screens. How he hadn't burned out his eyeballs yet was beyond me.

We found Takigawa halfway down the third story staircase, looking pale and perhaps a bit flustered.

"Sorry, Prof," he said the moment he saw us around the top of the second-floor staircase. "The way the sun was casting shadows from the windows made me see someone hanging from the banister for a moment. Think it's just in my head."

Naru didn't say anything. Just looked up at the banister above us, frowning.

"What camera is facing this direction?" he asked.

"I think it's split by two cameras," I said. "One on the second floor and one on the third floor, both facing the windows. We might see something in the top of the second floor one."

Though I highly doubted we would see anything. A random dangly body didn't just appear and disappear. That sort of stuff, if really caused by spirits, were only the mind or spirit of a person being affected, not the actual technology.

"Oliver!"

Lin's John Wayne shout from downstairs definitely made me jump again. Today was turning out to be quite exciting, wasn't it?

Even so, I gave Takigawa a hand up before following Ayako and the prof back downstairs.

"You doing okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, just a little startled, you know?" he flashed me a grin. "Got to calm my heart is all."

"Do you think Lin saw it?"

"Would be crazy if he did. I might actually get freaked out again. But what's the point of showing living people a dangling dead person?"

"Spirits are made of intentions and emotions, with a spattering of thoughts," I said. "They're not so much a consciousness as they are the imprints that was left over from one, because spirits, once they lose their body, lose their ability to change easily. Has something to do with having no brain matter, I think." That particular lesson of the professor's hadn't been all that easy to understand.

Even so, Takigawa looked impressed. "Hey, you could actually do this."

Funny. I was just thinking I wasn't cut out for it.

Back down at the base, Naru and Ayako stood behind Lin, watching something on a separate laptop from the camera monitors. Takigawa and I jogged up to catch whatever they were watching.

I caught the end tail of a man, dressed in a pioneer-like, baggy white shirt and nondescript pants, climbing over the railing, a noose hanging from his neck.

 **Author note: Bonus chapter for whoever can guess how many siblings and children I have.**


	10. I Forgot For a Reason

**Happy Thanksgiving! Here's an update.**

10

" _I've come to find the best thing to do when in these seemingly hopeless situations is to distract oneself, which is difficult if all interest and hope has been lost. It's hard to be caught up in something when you feel like you've lost your ability to care. But find something engaging, something out in the sun, perhaps, that can draw you away from your dark thoughts if even for a moment. At the very least it restores a bit of your stamina for dealing with the beast. It doesn't fix things, no, but it does give you a chance to get the rest you need to stand up on your own again."_

Naru started the clip over again without us asking. Meanwhile, Lin watched the monitors, hands resting above his mouth.

But it wouldn't rewind to the beginning, where the man appeared. It just showed him climbing over the banister again. Then, he simply slipped off, bounce about by his neck, which had gone rubbery and his head floppy.

The video froze on the image of the banister holding the rope.

A strange, sickening sort of chill shivered in my gut.

"This video probably won't hold for long," said Naru. "Did everyone get that?"

"Th-that's real?" asked Takigawa.

The prof gave him one of his droll stares.

"I don't think anyone could have made that up beforehand. I mean, a disappearing act on you of a whole dangling body?" said Ayako.

"Actually," I said, quite happy to oblige. "You can use the reflection off a pane of glass to project a ghost-like image, then simply turn the glass away to stop the image. We went over that last semester."

That just got us all looking at the prof and Lin.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he said. "But I did not set this up to test you. Nor has Lin. He has little patience for pranks or tricks."

"And, we're supposed to go on your word?" asked Takigawa.

Another droll stare.

"Stop looking at me like that! I'm not an idiot. It's just…come on, why would a ghost do this?"

"It's not why," I said. "Remember? They aren't logic consciousnesses anymore. If anything, their just a kind of energy entity that sometimes effect the energy around them—"

"I know that," he said, for the first time sounding a bit exasperated with me. "But to wipe an entire tape and put this in?"

"It's not a tape," said the prof, and he proceeded to play the clip again. Except, this time, it wouldn't start. When he refreshed it, the recording read on as though nothing had happened, this time with a blank railing and staircase. No dangling body included. "Though I've never seen this kind of sophistry in a ghost before…"

"I woudn't call hanging yourself sophistry," said Ayako blandly.

"There was that one case with the doll," I said, eager to continue showing off that, yes, I did pay attention in class thank you very much.

The prof just nodded. No praise. Of course not. Was I legally insane?

"But that was an inanimate object," he said. "Not a full-blown memory impression. Camera's can't record the past."

"So, you're saying this may or may not have even happened?" asked Takigawa incredulously.

"Correct. It could be a memory, or simply an expression."

"Hanging yourself can only express so much," said Ayako.

"It only expresses pain," said Naru, and his usual flat, dry tone had a strain of something beneath it.

A silence fell between us.

"Did you finish temperatures?" the prof asked Takigawa.

"Yeah…I don't really feel up to going upstairs, though…or looking at any banisters."

Naru nodded. "You can take a short break out of the house if you need to."

Now that sounded weird.

But then he whipped his head to me. "Not you, Mai. We have research to do."

I threw my head back and groaned.

"What about me?" Ayako asked.

"You can do temperature readings in the next hour. Otherwise, I don't care."

Ayako did a bit of a fist pump, then proceeded to go up the stairs as though nothing had happened, and Takigawa hadn't seen someone hanging themselves. The later, still looking a bit pale, gave me a weak smile and asked if there was anything I wanted him to get me.

"Depends on whether I'm on night patrol tonight."

The boss shrugged. "It would give you more experience, but let's try for half a night."

"A Monster then."

Takigawa saluted, I thanked him, and then he was gone too.

The professor stepped back from Lin's chair, laptop in hand. He gestured towards the couch and I followed him there.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting almost close enough to feel his body head against my thigh, with the laptop before us on the table. An extra laptop, used by me while I reviewed what I slept through, still sat there.

"First, we need to record every detail of what we saw before we forget. Then, we're diving into what the owners had been able to find about the history of this place and those who lived here."

I straighten at that, even as I realized my hands hadn't stopped shaking since the vides. But I liked the stories. The stories were what made the ghosts real, not any of the fancy stuff.

So, an afternoon passed like that under the professor's close tutelage. He read over my shoulder as I went through things, then asked me what stood out. Then he'd add on what I should have taken note of and what I should ignore. I caught on quick, and soon I was adding notes of the history to the computer.

"So far, three people are mentioned of hanging themselves on the railings," I said, tapping the space button.

"Twelve of those who have lived here, for any part of their life, died of suicide, whether on or off the lot, we can probably guess by looking at the years of residency."

"At least they have recorded…"

As they had. Every owner or renter of the home had the years and months in which they stayed carefully recorded. The list was impressive, testifying to the long age of the home.

I read over the names, hoping for one of them to pop out to me, and wishing someone had at least kept a diary. But so far, only the older residents had, and they were more of daybooks/logbooks than journals of any depth. If there were any diaries or journals for the others, all the web searching I could do brought up nothing. Seems no one particularly famous to History books had lived here.

When the professor got up to make sure someone was organizing dinner, I was halfway through my third time through all the data with a web browser open on one side.

This was getting nowhere. These people, despite having family and friends, seemed almost as disconnected as me. No one knew their thoughts. They had killed themselves, and nobody cared anymore. But, then, death didn't make people care for you. Actions did. And when you weren't around to do any actions, to bad so sad.

I rubbed my aching eyes. Exhaustion wore on me like a lead blanket.

 _And I have to keep watch tonight?_

I pushed the laptop onto the coffee table and spread out on the sofa, aware of the warm spot where the professor had been. I put an arm over my eyes hoping the pressure might help with the pain and keep out the wisps of red light from the setting sun.

When I opened them, I was still in the house, but it had grown brighter. Someone had turned on the lights, and the house was suffused with a warm glow. Didn't know why they wanted it pitch black in the parlor all the time. It also felt warmer, and I hadn't noticed how cold I was inside. Los Angelos could still get cold too.

But this warmth was beyond just temperature. It reached in deep, soothing me in a way I couldn't remember. It was peace, safety, security.

I sat up slowly. The warmth made it feel okay to take my time.

Except instead of monitors and computers, I saw two people sitting on the couch. They smiled at me as I noticed them. In an instant I recognized them, and couldn't comprehend how I could have ever forgotten.

Mom. Dad.

My mother had blue eyes and the same auburn hair as me. Dad had darker hair and darker eyes, along with the rounded jaw I now possessed. They sat there as though they had been there the entire time, as though they owned the place.

Without hesitation, I dropped all the luggage and guilt I'd carted around and dove into their arms, not caring if I crashed my face on an elbow or split my chin on a knee.

But I fell into their embrace perfectly. Warmth sublime. Ah, so this was what it had been liked to be loved. How had I ever lived without it?

But I didn't start to cry until I caught Mom's scent. All those mornings, the bed I missed so much, came sweeping about me, along with the sense that it would stay now. I wouldn't forget. I could sleep now. Dad was here, and so was Mom. And we had this huge house. We could put as many people as we wanted into it.

Because that's what I suddenly realized I wanted. I wanted a big, beautiful old house like this that I could fill with people who loved me, and I loved them, and bathe in this safe, peaceful warmth until the day I died. In this warmth, food sounded tastier, beds sound comfier—heck, I could even curl up on the carpet and sleep. The lights seemed more gentle, the world a better place, and the future not scary at all. How could it scare me? I had the perfect safe place to return to whenever it got hard.

Because this is what was really held in my parent's arms: the security of knowing I had somewhere to go whenever I felt pain, whenever I was sad, or mad, or made a mistake, or got lonely.

Oh, god. I hadn't even realized. How have I been alive this whole time?

As I breathed in my mother's scent, and my hair stroked by my father, they talked to me. I didn't know what of, but it didn't matter. The silence had vanished and there were voices talking to me, voices that were happy with me. They promised comfy dresses and more fluffy Navajo blankets to cake me with. A new downy pillow to sit beside the old. Stuffed animals. Gentle things. Comforting things. Warm baths and winter nights by a fire. Good food I didn't have to make, made with love, and the knowledge that I wasn't a beast. I wasn't a sociopath. I was just a normal little girl, who was a miracle to somebody's life.

All too suddenly, I woke up.

I didn't want to wake up. I felt I could sleep more, and scrambled on the threads of the dreams to come back, frantic with fear. On the edge of my consciousness was the knowledge it wasn't real, and I wasn't ready to face that. I couldn't.

But, behind my sticky eyelids, only darkness met my gaze.

My throat tightened hard and quick, stealing my breath. My body started to shake, and my chest felt as though it had caved in on itself.

Then, slowly, I opened my eyes.

The pale parlor ceiling met them, lit by the blue-white glow of the monitors. No warmth suffused light. No voices. Just the dark and the quiet, ocean-like waves of traffic.

Tears poured out the minute I opened my eyes. I gasped for breath.

A chair creaked. "Mai?"

Oh. No. Please, let anyone see me besides the Prof. I couldn't handle it if—when he'd see how—no I just—

I put an arm back over my eyes, struggling to choke back the body shuddering sobs I hadn't had to deal with since I was, what, thirteen?

But it couldn't be help. Raw, cold, alone, it was as though I had been betrayed and abandoned naked on the side of the road in the middle of winter. I couldn't live like this, I couldn't—no point—if I had wanted to prevent this, why didn't I…

As another choked gasp escaped me, I heard the prof rise from his chair and stiffened as he drew near, fighting harder than ever to quiet down.

After a few seconds of quiet, I dared to believe he had left the room, and for a brief moment I let the sound escape me. But just as I drew in another breath, I heard him.

"Bad dream?"

I swore and turned onto my side, my back to him.

I couldn't do this.

Not knowing how to face this, I curled in on myself and finally let it go, just let myself cry and hurt. I didn't miss them. No. It wasn't a sudden morning of their death. It was a morning for my future and the great gaping maw of want that had become my soul—and would never be fulfilled. I'd always be wanting. I'd never get a cool old house like this and be able to feel it with people who gave me that connection. I hadn't had that connection since Mom died. I didn't even know how to make one. I couldn't remember how to open up myself in such a way that would warrant such love. I just…who would…how would I ever find anyone…even if I got married I wouldn't be able to be with my husband the entire time, and he could get tired of me and divorce me. There was no way a husband could love like parents, so unconditionally.

Sometime later, I don't know, after I'd started hiccupping from the force of the sobbing, a warm hand grasped my shoulder.

"Here."

For a moment, I considered pretending I hadn't heard anything. But my nose had started to run like a fountain and I couldn't breathe right, so I'd have to sit up eventually, if for nothing else than to clear my sinuses.

Slowly, arms shaking, I sat up and put my feet on the floor. My professor had a cup of tea, and a roll of toilet paper on the coffee table.

A little scared by his thoughtfulness, I took the toilet paper first and blew my face into it—or at least what it felt like.

Then, hesitantly, I took the warm mug of tea. Without needing a clear nose, the first waft of steam that passed my mouth came with the tang of lemon and soothing notes of milk and sugar.

I took a small sip. Warmth melted down my chest.

Meanwhile, my professor just sat on the coffee table, waiting, not saying a word, his precious monitors and mikes neglected. Only when I was halfway through my tea, and probably apparent that I wouldn't talk, he stood up and returned to the computer chair before the monitors. He kept his headphones off, however. I wished he wouldn't. The kind of noises leaking out of me were pathetic.

Only then did I notice the blanket that had pooled onto the floor when I got up. It was the same blanket the professor had used when he supposedly slept on the couch to keep me awake and on the screens.

Even after I calmed down, tears leaked out of my eyes, and I quivered with cold. I couldn't see myself ever being warm or happy again. Had I been happy? Could I really call what I had lived through happy? At least I could take some comfort in the fact that I did have emotions and could cry. Though, at the same time, that I would want a house full of worshippers didn't say much either. I did have anything to give. Didn't you have to love someone in order to get love first? I didn't love anyone like that. I felt too cold for it. And I had always known I'd never have a chance with Naru. I even looked forward to getting past this stage of my life and him out, so I wouldn't have to have those aching, disappointments when he glared at me or told me my essay was probably the worst he'd seen yet.

…I really was a masochist. I wanted to be tortured. I wanted to be despised. And then, hypocritically, I wanted a house full of people who adored me like parents.

Eventually, with the blanket tight around me in hope's I'd warm up somehow, I went to the chair and tapped on the professor's shoulder.

"I can take over now."

He didn't argue. Just nodded and got up. His quiet disturbed me too. Or maybe I had disturbed him so much he didn't have to deal with me.

But just as I sat down, he asked, "May I ask if I was in your dream?"

Wow. He really was a narcissist. See the kinds of things I was attracted to? Ulk.

"No," I said, and the word came out both stuffy and offended.

He shrugged. "It's nothing personal. I have a theory your subconscious has created a spirit guide out of my image, since I am the one to lead you through most of your knowledge of the paranormal. The brain has to have a way to express the information it's getting through your clairvoyance."

Now I was feeling dumb. Gal, when had I become so sensitive? Since I got all naked and raw feeling on the side of the road? Probably.

"Well, no," I said again.

"Would you mind telling me—"

"Yes."

He just nodded. "Alright. If you're feeling tired, wake me up. So far we've had the usual cold spots, including the one up on the third floor in room 6. I already went and checked it out though."

A tendril of foreboding trickled through me.

"You did it alone?"

He just looked at me. "No one else around."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I was raised with the philosophy that sleep was sacred, and interrupting one's sleep one of the highest of offenses."

I gave him an odd look. The idea that his parents actually taught him to be considerate baffled me. If sleep was that important, why had he woken me up in class tapping on my head with a pen? And wouldn't they have taught him to not flaunt people's weaknesses all the time?

He didn't respond to my look. Just went to the couch and proceeded to lie down, throwing the blanket over himself. The same one I had been using. Not that it mattered or anything.

With a sigh, I turned my aching eyes to the monitors and slipped on the headphones.

 **Author's Note: Oh! I forgot. Answer to my question. I have one son and ten younger siblings. I'm the oldest. ^.^**


	11. Today I Don't Wanna Do Anything

11

" _Another thing I've found to be critical when you have an anxiety or depression disorder is to visit those who love you, in particular, your parents. My mom isn't perfect, but being with her eases me in ways I could have never done alone. The same goes for my grandparents._

 _It may sound self-serving, but surround yourself with people who love you. Visit family. Take your time with them. It will remind you that living isn't all about suffering. It's about loving too."_

I actually managed to stay awake. Granted, I couldn't have slept even if I wanted to with my brain flying around in circles over the dumb dream I couldn't hang on to. But my eyes hurt like a mother and my head pounded along with them. In fact, I ached all over, as though I were sick with the flu or had been crunched into a suitcase all night long.

I got some EM recordings of voices and the wispy tail end of a sigh. When I showed them to the prof he discounted half of them and only kept two recordings as anything worth considering. I found I didn't care. Past the pain, I was numb.

And yet I knew this numbness. I knew it all too well.

"You didn't have dinner," he said, eyes still on the laptop. "You should eat, maybe take a nap. I'll look over the tapes and let you know if you caught everything."

Probably not. But I nodded and ambled my way to the kitchen. It was still too early for college students to be up, but I had enough daylight to see my way to another bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. The sweetness tanged into my mouth almost harshly, making the corners of my jaw hurt. After I finished, my tongue and mouth felt sore, as though I had chewed on sandpaper instead.

Gladly, I didn't meet anyone on the stairs, and made it back to my room unperturbed. I locked the door behind me, suddenly sick at the idea of someone barging in and seeing me like this, and went to curl up in my cold bed.

It didn't smell like mom either.

Even so, I eventually fell asleep and woke up with less soreness, but no less numbness. The bed had warmed from me, and I could smell the coconut shampoo on my hair. So, maybe a little bit more like Mom.

I laid there for an hour wondering if I really wanted to go downstairs. Eventually, though, I got up, took a shower rather than a bath, and dressed myself. Footsteps hammered up and down the stairs, and at one point I heard Takigawa's raucous laughter. Though no one caught me on the way down to the parlor, or base.

Lin was at the monitors. He glanced up as I walked in. Sitting on the couch, with the laptop in his lap and a pile of papers on the coffee table by his knee, was the professor. He must have taken a shower and whatnot while I was asleep, because he seemed completely unruffled and well blackety black black dressed as usual.

When he looked up at me, I saluted.

"Reporting for duty, sir!" I said, finishing it off with a cheesy grin that felt far too easy.

He nodded. "Have you had lunch?"

"Not yet, sir!"

"…do you really have to do that?"

"Play along, sir!"

"I'd rather not. There are sandwiches in the fridge. Get one and come back, we'll review last night."

I did so, soldier marching from the premise to said sandwich.

He had a second laptop open for me when I got back, along with some headphones.

"You had some EMs last night too that you missed. Also, there are similar cold spots in a few other places besides room 6."

So I got to work and gladly lost myself in it. There was no point to it. It was long and boring. But I guess it was good training for being a mall security guard. Fallback plan for if I sucked butt at ghost hunting, which I probably would.

And I was tired. So tired. My eyes still stung from being open.

 _Why bother?_

I ended up rewatching the same hour three times because I realized I hadn't caught anything. Even as I finally managed to grasp that nothing had happened except for that one recording of the sigh, I moved on to the next hour and found I couldn't concentrate. Luckily, my prof didn't see the need to babysit me the whole time. I was meant to report on my findings. Thankfully, there was no projector or classmates to display it to, though the prof was bad enough.

Suddenly, the idea of writing a report sounded as exhausting as cleaning an entire house while horribly sick. I didn't feel too far from it either. The sandwich didn't much care for me, or rather, my stomach hadn't been up to eating in the first place.

Ayako came and sat on the coffee table at some point, frowning.

"Your eyes are all puffy," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Just had a long night staring at screens," I said lightly, smiling at her.

Her frown only deepened. "Really, though, you look awful. Are you sure that was it? Was the prof mean to you? More than usual, I mean."

"Nah. He actually made me some tea. Crazy, right?"

But she seemed to doubt that too.

"If you need more sleep," she said. "Don't hesitate to let me know and I'll take care of the prof and his scary assistant, kay?"

I was touched. Or rather, I wanted to be. The numbness wouldn't allow it.

"Sure." And through my smile, I found I didn't want to be bothered. It was hard enough already to concentrate. "Thanks, Ayako."

She just nodded and got up to go do whatever she had been about today, which based on some notes the prof had left on the desktop of the laptop next to me, had been making calls to people about their ancestors or old relatives that had used to live in this house.

Not soon after she left, the prof came in to hand something in a mug to his assistant and a package of what could have been vanilla wafers. Lin accepted them most graciously, and Naru came towards me. Rather than sit beside me, he took up Ayako's place on the coffee table and took up his laptop.

"Mai," he said. "There _was_ a disclaimer with this case. If you are feeling unwell, you can leave."

I didn't look at him for a moment, though I did take off my headphones to let him know I had heard him.

"It wasn't a bad dream," I said. "It was actually a really nice dream. I'm fine."

He raised the eyebrow at me which said he doubted everything.

And for a moment, I basked in his blue gaze. I took in his smooth black eyebrows, the mouth that never smiled, and the firm, proud cheekbones.

I could break myself on that face, I thought, like a wave on some rocks.

"I'm fine," I repeated.

He sighed that big long exhausted thing he seemed to reserve for me. "Alright. But if you startle me breaking out in hysterics like that—"

"I can't control what I dream!" I cried, alight with humiliation. Did he have to describe it like that? Was that really what I looked like to him? A hysterical woman?

"—I'm sending you home," he finished, as though I hadn't said anything. "Is your report ready?"

It probably would never be ready for him. "I just got started."

"Well, hurry up. We got an attic and a cellar to investigate after this."

"We didn't do that on the first day, why…?"

"Because I knew half-way through our six days I'd get bored," he clicked his fingers. "I don't hear any keys clicking."

I rolled my eyes and went back to the arduous task of pushing out a report.


	12. An Attic Full of Skin

12

 _"The scariest thing about these mental disorders is that we see the end conclusion to those who had lost the fight. Death is a far quicker, cleaner ending to those locked into their home by their own obesity, starving to death to find some satisfaction, sickly desperate for the drugs that give them that high, selfishly using others to enable themselves, and overall degenerate, miserable shams of society._

 _And when I look at them, I don't recoil in disgust. Instead, I stare and tremble, because I see myself. I understand how they got there, because I could get there so easily. All I'd have to do is give up and live. I feel for them. I get how hard it is."_

As I wrote, a part of my mind drifted to the darkness, now a safe place, as a dark, closed closet would be. I imagined myself in a box, sinking into darkness unaffected by time, light, or the attention of anyone. Just a pause in life to let me sink and not feel or think. Perhaps, in this blank abyss, I could find myself again—find a point to keep on living.

I jerked back, staring at the half-assed report I had just gagged out.

 _Maybe…maybe I should go home. Maybe I am being affected._

But it wasn't like this was anything new. I was just paying attention to it now. All this had been there, I had just ignored it because no one wants to be around someone who constantly struggles from something that had happened years ago. But I wasn't struggling. I got straight A's in school, even if now my grades had gone to B, I was enjoying college. I loved studying ghosts and the paranormal. I loved going to Professor Davis's class. I loved his stick-up-his-ass walk and talk. It sounded so much like how I mentally cataloged everything, except better. Loud, up front, daring, he was sure in his skin. He was confident. He was beautiful. He was smart. He could stand on his own.

I gasped suddenly, unaware that I had let my throat close up. Lucky for me, the prof wasn't around, but Lin was, and he did look back at me. I forced my usual smile and shrugged, and Lin was all too happy to turn back to his monitors. Sucking up his delicious voice in a seashell and leaving the rest of him behind was sounding more and more attractive.

But, then, I was grateful he didn't pay me any attention.

I didn't get much time to recover, as the professor came in with a cup of coffee, followed by a happy Takigawa.

"Got to visit the Buddhist temple this morning," he said, beaming. "It looked just like the ones overseas! It was like walking onto a movie set! And the air of serenity—"

"Are you finished?" asked the prof.

I nodded and pushed the laptop over. I didn't quite trust myself to speak. He took up the laptop and started to read, and I spent the time listening to Takigawa go on about his temple.

After what could have only been a minute, Naru said, "This is worse than your usual. You didn't get anything."

"Do I ever?" and I tried to sound equal amounts cheery and exasperated, even as I sunk deeper.

"I actually liked some of your reports," he said, crossing a leg over the other and taking a sip from his mug. "They displayed an insightful creativity that the others seem to lack. Your writing is hardly college grade, yes, but, then, most of my students are. At least yours actually give insight."

I had never been complimented in so many words by Professor Davis—heck, I had never even heard him give a compliment, let alone one so large. By the look on Takigawa's face, he hadn't either. He caught my wide-eyed stare and mouthed, "He so likes you!"

Or it could have been anything else. I had no degree in reading lips or anything.

"But this," Naru shook his head, oblivious to our exchange, and handing me back the laptop. "This is trash. I might just send you home if you make another like it."

"The punishment is so vast," I said.

"Especially, since I get to decide whether or not you get to enter the upper level classes."

"But then you'd lose your top prodigy," I made sure to say 'prodigy' with the French accent.

"Then I'll just have to have kids," he said, with the straight-not-really-a-smile. "Or wait a year for new freshman. They make more of them every day."

"Hence the 'fresh'."

"Well," drawled Takigawa. "If you two are done…flirting," he batted his eyelashes. "We had some creepy rooms to explore?"

The professor gave him the ice glare. Takigawa raised his hands, as though that would stop the ice beam in its tracks.

But, more or less, we gathered together at the foot of the steps with Ayako and decided on the basement first.

Which turned out to be a huge disappointment.

For one, it wasn't creepy. It was well lit, painted white from the floor to the ceiling, and filled with pump engines, water heaters, and color coded pipes. Red, blue, green, orange—it reminded me strongly of my job back at the school where I help cleaned and maintain the boilers that heated most of the school. So, if anything, I felt right at home. No ghosts here.

At least it wasn't as loud. None of the engines were running, nor were any vents. The only thing humming away was the heater in the corner, and even then just to keep the rooms upstairs at a balmy 72 degrees.

"Oo, I perfect dungeon ripe for the murder," I said.

"No need to sound so bland," said Takigawa. "You could kill lots of people behind that stuff, and hang some more from the pipes."

"The serious way you two take your studies is invigorating," said the professor, all flat sarcasm. "You know the drill. Temperature, measure, floor level…"

We got to it. Meanwhile, the professor went around with the blueprint to verify if there were any hidden walls or odd, unused spaces.

But, it turned out, our findings were just as bland as my impressions.

I had higher hopes for the attic. After all, this was a stinking old house, there had to be some part of it that had remained untouched by the refurbishers.

To my disappointment, it had also been whitewashed, well lit, and otherwise modernified. Stacks of chairs, some tables, and cabinets filled up the far end. The majority of the attic, however, was empty, and so very white.

"If I had an attic, I'd paint it skin color," I said.

"She wants an attic full of skiiiiin," sang Takigawa.

"I sooooo want an attic full of skiiiiiin!" I sang back.

"A wonder why the two of you aren't dating," said Ayako wryly.

"Hey, I asked," said Takigawa. "You interrupted, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Sometimes my brain blocks out bad memories." She blinked dolefully. "Who are you again?"

Takigawa's expression went flat. "Really?"

"If one of you would check the cabinets for what's inside," said the prof, rather loudly.

Ayako and Takigawa happily did so. I followed up on another cabinet, but seeing Ayako and Takigawa had their hands on all four, I found myself wandering the empty abyss of the space. There was an air vent high on the wall on the other side, and I found myself daydreaming of turning the attic into an entire apartment. It would be a spacious one indeed, even with the slanted eaves. But that was part of the charm.

Caught in my daydream of where I would put my curtains and my books, I trailed my hand along the far end wall, feeling the cool, new paint.

The cool shot cold and crawled up my hand.

I pulled back, shivering.

"We should get cameras up here," said the prof. "Lucky, we have two left. Takigawa, Ayako, would you—"

The lights went out.

Without the lights, the attic plunged into a darkness deeper than black, the kind I really had expected from the basement, even with its tiny, lone window.

I jumped, but quickly relished in the dark. No one could see me here. No one…I was sinking in the dark. A break from reality, from thought, from feeling. The cold didn't seem so bad anymore, even as I registered my chattering teeth.

I wanted to stay here. Forever. Bring up my mother's blanket. Curl up right in the middle, cushioned with darkness on each side, smothered, the only sound my breath until eventually that too faded away…

My eyes snapped open, my face stinging. Ayako and Naru looked down at me, the first with her hand in the air. Takigawa hovered above them, standing, while I had somehow gotten on the ground.

I blinked hard. "Wha…did you just slap me?"

"Yes," said Ayako, as though proud of the fact. Yippy you, here's a trophy for obtaining the rare experience of slapping your roommate. Hoo ha.

"You weren't waking up," Takigawa said, and his face looked a bit wan, as though he had aged a few years. "You're okay, right? Did you just pass out or something?"

I just blinked, utterly confused, and, in part, disappointed. The darkness was gone. The comforting feel of those cushions, slowly pressing me into oblivion.

"Did the lights go out?" I asked.

"Only momentarily," said the prof. "Enough time for you to go from upright to the floor. Does your head hurt?"

"Does anything hurt?" asked Ayako, and this time her concern was very apparent.

I sat up, feeling more than a little awkward laying while everyone else looked down at me, and test wiggled myself. My shoulder did ache a bit, and there was a tender spot on my head at the same time.

"A little sore, but I think I'll be fine," I frowned. "I…I don't remember fainting."

"Then could you explain to the best of your abilities," said the prof, somewhat impatiently.

"I was…just thinking, when the light went out, how nice the dark was," I looked down at my tweedling fingers, suddenly very self-conscious. I didn't want it to sound like I was some weird emo longing for the darkness. "You know, how it can be kind of relaxing…"

"And…that made you pass out?" There was definite confusion in her voice.

"I don't remember passing out. I was just enjoying the darkness and thinking how I could get my m—favorite blanket up here and just take a break." I tried to give my most reassuring grin. "I really don't do well without a good night's sleep. I'm just crazy."

Ayako and Takigawa seemed to buy it, relief softening their features.

Naru, however, frowned. And boy, was that mouth made to frown.

"I think you better head home," he said.

I gaped at him. "What? No! We're just getting to the good part!"

"And I have the feeling the good part isn't telling us the truth."

"Really! I was just enjoying the darkness and thinking how nice it would be to curl up here with no one to see me and…" Takigawa and Ayako had a weird look on their faces. "I wasn't thinking about dying."

"None of us said that," said Ayako.

"Mai," Takigawa squatted down next to the professor, leveling his puckered, worried look. "Are you okay?"

I huffed. "You're making it sound like I just dropped to get attention. Yes, I'm fine, didn't we have cameras to get?"

"But are you okay?" This time it was Ayako asking, her done up eyes didn't do well looking motherly. The eyeshadow had been applied too heavily.

I opened my mouth, and for just a fraction of a second, I froze.

 _No. I don't know if I've ever been okay. Last night I remembered what it was like, just to wake up to the fact that it had been so long, I had forgotten._

Then I returned to the professor's marvelous frown.

Wouldn't it be so nice if I could impress him? If maybe, just maybe…I proved to be someone admirable? Someone beyond just insightful? I was already part way there if what he had said about my reports rang true.

"I'm tired," I said. "But I'm alright. And no, I don't want to take a nap, I'll just sleep well tonight if the professor is okay with that."

The prof looked to the ceiling in exasperation. "You lot make me sound like a slave driver. Since when have people become so lazy?"

Takigawa barked a single laugh. "Newsflash, prof. They've always been."

"And so they have." He stood. "Cameras, please."


	13. Benadryl

13

" _It's become our plague. So many of us have broken families, abuse, instability, addictions, and other ingredients to the anxiety/depression disorder recipe. It's alarming. Too many of us fighting our own brains to cope with normal life stresses like a sane human being, too many of us struggling to simply function, even to the point where the most primitive functions of eating and sleeping are disturbed._

 _So, please, come near. With this story, I hope to give you a little warmth. In this ice age, I hope to give you what I so desperately need."_

I didn't sleep. Rather, I closed my sleepy eyes and let my sleepy body lay there, but my brain never really shut down. Even in the spans where I thought in images, I never got to the point where I could say I was asleep.

Around one in the morning, I sat up, wondering if I could dig up some benedryll from the professor or something. Maybe get some more of that tangy, but calming tea he kept giving me.

Unafraid of the darkness, I padded down the stairs to the first floor towards the glow of the monitors.

To my surprise, however, it wasn't the prof or Lin that sat on night watch, but Takigawa.

"Huh," I said.

Takigawa looked over his shoulder, then grinned. "A night time visit, Mai? You look cute in that shirt."

I just rolled my eyes. I was wearing boxer like girl briefs anyways, and my shirt went mid-thigh. And it wasn't like he could see much in this darkness.

"Do you know if we have any benedryll?' I asked.

"Can't sleep?"

"Yeah. Maybe it's those clairvoyant senses of mine acting up."

"I didn't bring any, and I don't know what the professor brought." He paused. "I was going to tease you about going up and asking him, but on second thought I'd rather you didn't. Why don't you come hang out with me? It'll be like watching horror movies late into the night."

The thought, though appealing in its own way, made me uncomfortable. What if Takigawa tried something? I'd never even had to deal with something of that level before.

"Let me ask the prof. If he doesn't, I might as well."

He beamed. "Excellent. This just became ten degrees less boring."

I returned his smile, though not nearly as exuberant, and begun my trek up the stairs.

And for the first time, I actually felt discomforted in the darkness. I was taking back to when I was young and alone in the dark, running from the bathroom because of the idea of something following me and diving into bed. Of the corners hiding secrets and limbs.

And Takigawa had seen something. There was something in this house. Secrets.

Shuddering, I padded my way down to the professor's door, to find it open just a crack and a light from the bathroom painting a faint line of light onto the darkwood floor.

Maybe he had just headed to bed? "Professor Davis?"

I spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb him, and already wondering if I should just go back downstairs to Takigawa.

I pushed very lightly on the door and peeked inside. The bed was mussed up, and the bathroom door was open. I could see the lines of his shadow stretched out on the bed. Though the shadow didn't move, so I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

I heard a click.

Something hot and familiar rushed through me, and a voice whispered _Naru's hurt._

I dove into the room, across the carpet, and swerved into the bathroom.

To find the professor with a gun to his head, and the trigger half-pulled.


	14. Dem Dead Peeps

**I really enjoyed reading your reviews. ^.^ Now to continue my suffering beneath the tyrant hand of 'the common cold.'**

14

 _"We may try to find happiness in the distractions we use to give us a break. But it doesn't take long to realize happiness can't be found in mere distractions, such as entertainment and money. We need something else, something deeper, which can reinvigorate our willingness to just try. Try to become better. Try to work. Try to be someone we could be proud of and not this larvae form of the fallen and the trapped gremlins of society._

 _I think our relationships with others may have something to do with it. After all, most of us with these sicknesses have broken families or strained relationships with the families we have."_

I slapped the black pistol aside with all my strength.

"Excuse me!" I screamed. I suppose 'excuse me' really was my go-to default phrase to say.

His head whipped around from where he had been staring in the mirror. "Mai—"

"Don't you freaking DARE try to turn this on me—Me going home? What about you!"

"If you'd lower your voice," he said, flat as usual. "I'd rather not punch you."

That made me quiet. But it didn't stop me from scrabbling past him to the corner of the bathroom where the gun had slid away. I'd never held a gun in my life, usually just pepper spray and tasers (and laser sharks), but I found the 'no pew, yes pew' safety switch near the trigger. It had been off. I wriggled the end towards the wall a bit.

"Can I have that back?" said Naru, plain, flat, cold.

"Not until I get to see if it's loaded or not."

A pause. "It's loaded."

"You're serious!"

When he said nothing, I swerved about, gun pointed to the ground—

To find something dark, something pale and wan, looking back at me. There was no beauty in his face anymore. Just circles beneath his eyes and not a trace of blue iris. His skin looked gray compared to the white tiles of the bathroom.

"Be," he said, slowly, quietly. "Quiet."

A tremor of fear shook through me, as icy cold as his glares.

He reached out for the gun, but I hid it behind me. He sighed, short and explosive, and strode from the bathroom. I heard the bedroom door close.

"Takigawa knows I'm here," I said, my voice high and trembling.

"For heaven sake, don't make it sound like I'm going to murder you."

I flinched as he reappeared.

"You do have that look," I murmured.

"As do you," he said.

For a moment, I didn't know what the flip he was talking about. Then I wandered back to the darkness of this night, and the cold thoughts I didn't even want to recognize that had held me close. No, I didn't want to go home, though I knew I should. But I didn't want to die in my apartment all alone. At the same time, I did. But making the decision would have required effort.

"We need to get out of here," I said.

The professor frowned. "Could you at least give it back to me?"

But I wouldn't. Instead, I lifted the gun and pointed to the bathroom door.

"Come on," I said, trying at being strong. "Go get your coat. We're leaving."

He blinked. Once. "You're not wearing any pants."

My eyes flew to the corner of the bathroom, where I could spy some gray sweats in a heap in the corner, some boxers hanging out. I gingerly reached down, keeping the gun on him, and flicked out the underwear.

"I'll borrow yours," I said. "Come on. I don't want to make this more of a scene that it already is."

"He will not have heard us," said Naru softly. "I covered the cameras and blocked the noise. For privacy"

And, of course, Takigawa wouldn't want to be the one to face up to the professor when he could have possibly be just having the runs of a lifetime. The guy really was scared of him.

And right then, I couldn't blame him.

"I'd would rather you not have to deal with murder charges at your age," he said softly, reaching out. "Please. The gun."

"Just get your damn coat on!"

Tears poured in front of my eyes, ruining all my attempts to be threatening.

Naru raised a hand. "Alright. If we go outside, will you give it to me?"

"Why do you want it so bad?"

"If you didn't notice, I was in the middle of something."

"Like shooting your brains out?"

"Yes."

The blunt, clear way he said that made me flinch.

He took a step towards me.

"I'll get my coat, so calm down."

Calm down? I had just walked in on him about to shot himself in the head and he wanted me to calm down?

I was probably too busy grasping this concept or keeping the gun ready while pulling on his too large sweat pants to figure out what to do about the prof disappearing into his room, but he did come back wearing his long, black trenchcoat. Always with the black…frick, he really was an emo.

"Do you cut yourself?"

He frowned at me. "No. Do you?"

"No! Why would you think I do?"

"Because clearly, you're dealing with the same problem as me."

"Oh? I don't recall putting a gun to my head or razors to my wrists."

He gave me the drool, cool stare, and for a moment everything felt as it should be. This was just my professor, not some ice man with black eyes and a hankering for death.

"Well?" He gestured to the door.

Keeping my eye on him and my grip tight around the gun, I eased out past him and into the bedroom.

He tossed something at me, and I just held back a scream, but it was just a sweater filled with his musk of bread and leather.

"You wanted outside?" he asked.

I struggle into the sweater, taking the gun one hand at a time. Why the hell did he even have one? And on a case? What did he expect? To be shooting up some ghosts, double time?

Somehow, acting cool and composed was much easier walking past the parlor. Takigawa glanced over, then poorly hid his disappointment.

"No benadryl?" he asked.

"Nope. We're going out for some. Apparently, the professor can't sleep either." I gave a grin I did not feel in the least. "His spidey senses are tingling too."

Takigawa shrugged. "Part of the game. Don't get ran over, yeah?"

"I hear ya."

And then we were out, the door closed behind us, and the crisp cold night air clamping in.

I let out a breath of relief, watching as the cloud rose into the light-polluted, starless city sky.

A click of shoes. "Well?"

"Get walking," I said, not even bothering to try to be threatening this time.

"You know I could get that gun from you whenever I want."

"And scar one of your delicate, precious students? No. Just move. He can probably still hear us."

Naru gave another sigh, this one more like the ones he seemed to reserve for my particular brand of stupid, and strode out of the porch and onto the sidewalk. I followed after him, feeling a particular cold brush of wind as a car drove past. City buildings, both old and new, crowded in about us, though the sidewalks were empty, and the traffic comparatively so.

I'd follow him to the end of the block. We crossed two streets and two stretches of stores and boardwalk before I realized his sweater and sweats weren't anywhere close to keeping me warm, and nor was walking around with a gun in plain sight. But it wasn't like I had a pocket or anything.

Naru must have been thinking the same thing, as he paused and reached back to me.

"Let's not deal with the cops."

I hesitated. "It would be better that dealing with you dead."

"I won't do that in front of you. I'm not in the business of scaring young women."

That would have been funny in any other circumstance.

"You've already scared me."

"Mai, just give me the gun before we end up in jail."

I puffed and handed it to him. He took it from me carefully, checking the safety first before sliding it into a pocket inside his coat.

"I'm not going to shoot myself," he repeated, as though that would help make the remaining tears and sniffles stop. "Nor am I going to hurt you."

I sniffed, suddenly feeling raw and naked again.

And for a few minutes we just looked at each other and puffed clouds into the air. Both of us could see how much the other didn't want to be there, and yet I wondered if he sucked at the icy air like he'd been drowning like I did.

Then, my professor uncharacteristically ducked his head down and put his forefinger and thumb over his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Why did you want to die?" I countered.

Another sigh of fog. "Loaded question. Why did you want to die?"

"Stop dragging me into this. I wasn't the one caught with a gun to my head."

"But still," he looked at me hard. "You're lonely, you don't have any close friends, you've never bothered with romance, and you're past is loaded—"

"Excuse me?"

The familiar drool, cool stare. "There are microphones all over the house."

"I never said any of that!"

"But you implied it to Takigawa when he asked you out, and Ayako was talking about how your friends, but that you've always felt distant and she doesn't recall you talking with any other friends."

"Okay, that's just creepy, are you stalking me?"

"Only if you're stalking me," his voice had raised in volume. "What were you doing in my room?"

"I was going to ask you for benadryl, I couldn't sleep."

"Because...?"

"Would you lay off! Fine, I was kind depressed and yeah, dying did pass through my mind—"

"And the attic simulated it to you, made it seem welcoming."

"Oh my god, are you going to let me talk or you just going to assume everything?"

"I'm right, though, aren't I?"

"Ugh!" I slapped my freezing hands to my cold face. "Stop it!"

"Then don't pry yourself," he snapped and pivoted on his heel.

But he only stalked off a few feet before stopping, apparently waiting for me. With nothing else to do, and knowing I probably shouldn't go back to that house, I caught up and followed not far behind him. Where we were going, I doubt either of us knew. We only knew that if we went back, we'd be going to something not good for us.

The house was killing us, and we weren't even sure we cared.

After stuffing my hands into my pits, I decided that, well, catching someone with a gun to your head was as intimate as you could get. We might as well use that and…figure out a point to all this.

"I just have issues," I said, quietly, because the sleepy city made even that sound so loud. "I…I think I might be a sociopath."

Naru snorted. I bristled.

"Excuse me?"

"You've said that three times now," he said. "And you are no sociopath, believe me. I've researched it."

I shivered with something like want and denial. "You don't know me."

"I know enough." He glanced over his shoulder, dark hair nearly hiding the black eye peering at me. "But what makes you think so?"

I hesitated, as was natural. I had never even whispered this to someone before.

"I…when…when my mom died," I swallowed. How could I explain this. "And I was alone in the house, I…I felt like nothing had changed. She hadn't been there all that often working for us, and…and I had to force myself to cry for her, and even then, I wasn't…she was my only family, you'd think I'd have a more realistic or violent response, at least. Five stages of grief and all that."

"Everyone does grief differently. There are those who experience distance from their emotions, a numbing of sort, to protect themselves from feeling, often without meaning to."

All these words came to me like sugared air. I hardly dared to believe them.

I took a steadying breath. "But…I still have issues, I—I can't…I can't connect with anyone, I don't remember how—"

"You're doing it right now."

"Than this is painful," I elbows popped with the force I hugged myself with. "And…and I'm not sure this is what I want. In my dream, I…it was so warm and happy."

"Did you see me?" he asked.

Ugh. Maybe I would go home. "Is that really all your concerned about?"

But he fell quiet and slowed a bit, so we were walking side by side. Up ahead we could see a McDonalds, one of those that was open 24/7. Hot cocoa and a heater suddenly sounded great.

Naru stopped. His expression half hidden by his thick black bangs.

"My brother died a few months ago," he said, almost casually. "And…I don't really see much in store for me now."

I stopped as well. "Your brother? But don't you have parents? Aren't you looking forward to making your own family? And you have a whole career set out for you, you have so much to look forward too."

He shook his bangs away and looked out onto the street, avoiding my gaze.

"My parents adopted the two of us from some orphanage in Romania because we showed exceptional psychic powers. My brother was the perfect medium, and I…I had the strongest PK ever recorded. My father is a paranormal research, and my mother a metaphysician. And even then…I'm positive the son they really wanted is already gone. Not an aloof, cold thing like me."

It was so weird hearing these words coming out of his mouth. Yeah, he was aloof and cold, but that's what made him kind of like Batman and seemingly untouchable.

"That can't be true," I said.

"I'd beg to differ. My brother was the complete opposite of me." He gave a throaty grunt of disgust. "Always had girls on our front doorstep mistaking me for him."

"Mistaking…?" That definitely threw a block in my head. "You were twins?"

"Identical," he said.

"And…in my dreams…" I couldn't stop staring. My insides had started shivering along with the rest of me. "The you in my dreams always looked like someone else had stolen your face. There's no way you'd smile that much."

And it made heartbreaking sense. He wasn't a narcissist. He missed his brother.

And yet, it brought another aspect I didn't necessarily like.

"Did you bring me…"

"Because I suspected you were channeling my brother as your spirit guide?" he shrugged. "I didn't lie. You do have a latent clairvoyance, and you really are all your year has to offer in psychic abilities. Minus your roommate, that is."

"That wasn't exactly an answer."

"It wasn't as definitive as that." He shrugged. "I've been trying to ignore the whole issue with my brother anyways. Coming here just sort of…"

"Dug it all up?" I finished. "Same here. I didn't really feel all that alarmed when I started getting depressed because it wasn't anything new. It was more like I got woken up to how numb and lonely I'd become. Then I started thinking how…how there was nothing I had to look forward to."

He turned then, and I thought I could see just a rim of dark blue where the light of the McDonalds shone on his eyes.

"That no one would miss your passing," he said.

I nodded.

He turned to me completely then, facing me with his shoulders back, considering me in a way he never had before.

"Then you're alone too," he said, almost absent-mindedly.

"Don't be alone," I echoed, smiling. "It's dangerous."

Naru nodded, looked at me a second longer, than turned to the McDonalds.

"You're freezing. Might as well order some hot chocolate."

"I didn't bring my wallet."

"My wallets always in my coat," he said. "It won't break my bank to spend a dollar on you."


	15. Hot Chocolate

15

 _"So, what is there between us and the worst scenario? They say having a mental/emotional illness is just like having diabetes or some other disease, but the thing is they can choose to take the best treatment there is. For us, that's a different story. We can get the treatment and it may or may not work, or we might not be able to afford it, because, really, is mental illness really as bad as the homeless guy who lost his leg and arm? There's no squirting blood, and our hearts aren't stopping anytime soon. Not to mention our insulin is probably fine. The pills they have only help, not magically take it away. And even then medication is a crapshoot at best._

 _So back to my question. What is there between us and the broken, sickly creature that everyone is disgusted by, including ourselves? What is the secret between the survivors and those who only failed at killing themselves?"_

We murmured to each other over our hot chocolate, barely above a whisper. Neither of us wanted to be overheard. I told him about my parents and how I had lived with my teacher, then on my own, and how I tried to be more comfortable with myself by decorating off my mom's bedding.

In return, he gave to me, in much more precise and eloquent words, the story of two six-year-old boys half starving in a Romanian orphanage, and the trust they only really shared between each other. Though one brother seemed to adjust more readily to being social and having friends, the other found people far too shallow, and only really kept his heart for his brother.

"It's hard, when you're…so much smarter than everyone else," he said, carefully. "People don't like being around know-it-alls or even someone sharper than they are. You have to learn how to behave in such a way that hides that gap between you, so they can be comfortable. I never saw the point to that. I always thought it was best to be myself, and my parents seemed pleased in the fact that they had such a smart son. I wanted their approval much more than anyone else, and Gene…" he always stalled a bit whenever he said his brother's name. "Gene was enough company for me. I didn't really think or about how close we were until he was dead. Then it was like he'd taken whatever part of me still lived and left some dead shell behind wearing his face."

I smiled. "You only feel comfortable talking about your feelings because I'm a girl, huh?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Where did that come from?"

"Oh, I was just imagining if I was a guy this conversation may turn out differently."

"ADD much?"

"Hey, woman brains are better at multitasking."

"I don't care how good you are, I can't see one thinking about two different things at the same time. Are you even listening?"

"Yeah! Of course I am!" I was actually offended by that. "Were you?"

"Yes. Even though most of it I had already inferred."

"Inferred? What are you, Sherlock?"

That line smile that wasn't quite a smile. "I could be."

And it was just enough of a smirk to give his cool eyes a cocky gleam that did nothing to deter his handsomeness.

The weird part was, I knew he wasn't exaggerating. For the first time, it made me grin rather than roll my eyes.

"Smart _is_ the new sexy." I leaned over my hot cocoa and took another sip. I was nearing the bottom. "Why haven't you ever tried to get a girlfriend? You know how unbelievable it is that you're, what, however old you are and haven't even tried for one?"

Now he frowned. "I've had a girlfriend before. Just because I don't have one now doesn't mean I couldn't if I wanted to—and there's the rub. I don't want one."

I cocked my head to the side. "Gay?"

He just gave me the cool 'you're a moron' look for that.

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Hey, how am I supposed to know? It's not like all the gay men of the world are flamboyant about it. I'm sure there's a gay James Bond hidden somewhere."

He just rolled his eyes and finished off his hot cocoa. Apparently, he didn't feel the need to verify his sexuality to me.

"Soo…" I didn't want to leave this comfortable atmosphere had I finally gotten—this…sense of seeing someone and being seen for the first time. I was ready to start any kind of conversation, no matter how awkward it was, to stay here. "So this, or these, girlfriends…can I have the story?"

He lowered his cup. "Why?"

"'Cause I'm curious. We're bonding, aren't we?"

His face scrunched up as though thinking about gagging at that sentence—or at the very least leaving.

Maybe being okay with the awkwardness of the conversation wasn't a good idea.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?" he asked. "Isn't that the favorite pastime of college students? And, as Takigawa said, you aren't ugly enough to deter all men." Another almost smirk. "Though I've seen some pretty ugly women attached to the lower dregs of society."

I stared at him. That wasn't cool. "Would it hurt you to call me cute?"

"Probably."

But his almost smile had twitched up as he said that.

I thought of the dream him—or rather, his possible twin brother—and the wonder such a smile had done to his face. Oh, if only I could see such a smile on Naru's face. The rarest smile of them all.

"Well, aren't you an adult," I said, my eyes jumping between his mouth and eyes. "But that's okay, because you aren't cute at all."

"I would hope so." He paused. "Stop flirting with me."

"I just called you ugly!"

"But you have the look."

"Excuse me?"

"We should probably head back." He tapped the bottom of his cup against the table. "And I'm out of hot chocolate. I assume you are too."

I hefted a sigh and slid off the barstool to the tall, tiny table we had been seating at. He followed after me as we dumped our cups in the trash and headed back outside.

"But really," I said, as I walked through a door he held open for me. "Do you just not like girls?"

"I like women," he said, a bit stiffly. "Do you like men?"

That actually made me pause. I put a finger to my chin and thought long enough to make him wonder.

"I sure like looking at them," I said.

I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Looking, but not touching?"

I shrugged. "Haven't really bothered to touch that many men besides, you know, hey-get-out-of-my-seat and hey-take-my-hand-or-I'm-going-to-fall-down-this-cliff."

I heard a puff of breath that could have been a newborn laugh. I looked over.

A smile. A small one, nothing like the room filling sunbeam on the twin in my dream. In fact, if I hadn't been watching for it, I might have missed it or thinking I just saw his straight line version.

For the first time, looking at someone made my breath catch. My chest pinched.

"This is why I like reading your reports so much," he said, and I could even see his teeth through that smile. "Yeah, they suck and you have the vocabulary of a middle schooler, but you mix up what words you do have into creative ways—no, silly, stupid ways."

"Were you trying to compliment me? Because I feel like I just got backhanded." That's right. Breathe.

"Take it however you like." Then he turned his face to me so I got the full brunt of that little smile. "I don't connect well with people. Romance is all about connecting, is the strongest kind of connection you can make. And the one time I got a girlfriend she ended up liking my brother anyways." Any trace of smile vanished and the almost scowling default expression returned.

I winced. "That would give anyone an inferiority complex."

He snorted. "She wasn't that smart anyways."

"Again, you sound like a haughty eight-year-old."

"Sure. So what's your issue?"

"Um, lots?"

"With men."

"Oh!" I thought some more, if only to see if his face would change. "It's kinda lame, actually. I was afraid of connecting with someone and it blowing up in my face, either because they found out I was an uncaring sociopath or because I didn't meet their needs and then the whole abandonment thing." I blinked. "I got an abandonment complex fear thingy, don't I? Kids left by their parents usually do. So there. That's my issue. All self-diagnosed, and I didn't even have to use google."

"You know there's a mental wellness institute on campus that provides free services for students, right?"

I sighed and looked up as the cloud of my breath vanished into the light-bleached night sky. A car whooshed by, pushing a draft of freezing air past my coat. I shivered.

"I was afraid they'd verify that I was a sociopath," I said. "And…I kind of don't like the idea of some stranger poking around in my head and feelings. I just wanted to…"

What did I want?

But my professor said, "Agreed."

When the Victorian mansion loomed into being, I paused outside the gate, reluctant to leave the safety of our bubble.

He noticed I had stopped and turned just inside the garden walls. He didn't say anything, just waited.

"I still want to die," I said, almost whispered.

"Still? Even though you know you aren't a sociopath."

I puffed out a breath and looked to the sky, my eyes burning. I couldn't look at him anymore.

Because it wouldn't happen…

"Don you still want to?" I asked. "Neither of us should go in there."

"Maybe we'll have to babysit each other," though his voice said he didn't like the thought of that at all.

I smiled. See? Wouldn't happen. Especially not with me. Plain, sad, broken me.

"Hey, if you don't do anything funny, I don't care if you crawl into bed with me," I said.

Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could almost sense the cold 'you're stupid' look.

"You've never done anything physical with a man beyond holding hands and shoving?"

I rolled my burning eyes and brought my chin down to give him my most skeptical look.

"Seriously, Naru? The fact I haven't should prove I have no experience, and therefore I won't even be able to rape you." I smirked, even though my eyes still threatened tears and my chest hurt. "Or do you want me to rape you?"

He raised a hand. "Don't go there."

But as we went inside together, he ended up following me to my room after dropping the gun off at his room. There, without a word, we slid into the same bed, careful not to touch, and listened to each other's breathing until we finally fell asleep.


	16. Like a vir-r-r-r-giiiin

**I finished the story last night, so I'll be updating these chapters pretty quick-like as a Christmas gift to you all. ^.^ Thank you so much for all your thoughts in the reviews, they were a delight to read. Hope you enjoy!**

16

 _"But the scariest thing about depression and anxiety disorders, the thing that those who don't have it struggle the most to understand, is that there doesn't have to be a reason. Sometimes, it's just sheer, emotional agony without any source or cause. We scrape our brains over constantly for the start of the pain, because once you know why you're feeling a certain way you can do something about it. But if you can't find the reason why, a frustrated kind of hopelessness mixes into the pot that's already too full."_

I woke up when Naru snapped the bathroom door shut.

I looked at the clock—only a bit after ten in the morning—and lazily stared at the lines and patterns of light thrown off by the sunlight through the lacey curtains. The brass bed frame gleamed almost painfully where the light hit.

It took me longer than it should have to figure out why I felt so…good. In those few moments, before I had woken up, I had actually thought myself in my mom's bed. I could almost even smell that certain something that always eased me to sleep.

But that thought wasn't exactly comforting. Was this the beginning of me trying to get anything and anyone sleeping in a bed with me? Uck, I would NOT become one of those girls. Though, for the first time, I thought I could understand why they did what they did. And, maybe, this was how they started. Maybe they were just as broken as me.

Toilet flushed. Sink ran. Then the door opened and Naru stepped back out, in the sweats and shirt he had been in last night. He yawned.

I caught his eye and smirked. "No one will ever know."

He raised his eyebrow, probably saying 'and why would I care?'

"They will never know how I ninja raped you in your sleep."

He snorted and reached for his phone and keys on the nightstand.

"It wouldn't be such a farfetched idea. If the school hears of me sleeping with a student, I would be fired."

I flinched. "Oh, frick, I didn't…"

"It's fine as long as you don't go blabbing about a raping that never occurred."

"Dude, just get out of my room before anyone notices."

He did that, though he didn't look nearly as worried as I felt.

I got ready as quick as a ninja after that, reminding myself that we should technically still be babysitting each other. Just because the night had passed didn't mean we were out of the clear. And while I was still trying to convince myself that I wanted to stay alive, the truth was that I really, really didn't want Naru to die. He, out of the two of us, deserved to live. And if he didn't, then it was just selfish wanting on my side, so that the little smile of his would still have a face to work with.

…That sounded a lot darker than I meant it to.

I shouldn't have even tried. Because waiting in the hall, leaning against the banisters opposite of my doorway, was Ayako with a smile you can probably already see.

She didn't say anything. She just looked at me with that stupid sly grin.

I scowled. "I'm a virgin."

"Of course you are, sweetie."

"Don't make me get crude."

"I'm just standing here. Man, both you and the prof slept in rather late. I thought Takigawa was watching the cameras last night?"

I narrowed my eyes. "So?"

"By the way, why was 'I'm a virgin' the first thing out of your mouth?" She put her hands to her cheeks. "Did you sleep with the dear professor?"

"NO!"

"Oh, okay," she shrugged, sly smirk gone. "Guess that's it then."

I stared. "Wait, what?"

"If you say nothing happened then nothing happened. And it's not like a girl goes from having never kissed a boy to sleeping with one in a matter of hours. At least, not very often."

Now it was my turn to smirk. "You sound so experienced."

She returned it with a cool, unfazed smile. "I should, though, shouldn't I?"

"Ew."

In a flash she scowled. "Excuse me?"

In my defense, I said, "Boys have cooties."

She laughed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Though, internally, the idea of sleeping with a guy before he had sworn to stay with me forever in marriage didn't sound all that appealing to me. What it did sound like was scary. No way was I giving all of myself over to some dude who just took booty wherever he wanted.

For some stupid reason, that made me think of the professor.

"Is there anything else to eat besides cheerios?" I asked as Ayako and me headed downstairs together.

"Besides pancakes and Mac and Cheese?"

"Oh, come on, there's got to be, like, some fruit."

"I guess there's some apples and bananas. But I'd rather have yogurt too if I'm going to eat straight fruit. You know fruit's just as bad as sugar?"

I highly doubted that. But, you know, whatever. She was the one that worried about being skinny all the time. With the way she talked, you'd think she practically inflated the moment she ate a burger. I, on the other hand, had no one to impress.

I turned the corner of the kitchen to see Takigawa, pale, shadow eyed, and definitely on the wan side.

My stomach dropped as I thought that maybe he had made the same assumption as Ayako. But neither me or Naru had given him any indication that we were going to the same room, and it wasn't like he would have peeked.

On seeing him, however, Ayako got a rather mischievous gleam to her eyes and sashayed over.

"Guess what, big boy," she tapped her manicured nails before his bowl. "Your beloved Mai is a virgin."

He choked a bit on his cereal and looked at her, incredulously. I stared too, bright red.

"Freak, Ayako, is that any of your business?" I said.

"Took the words from my mouth," grumbled Takigawa, a bit red around his ears.

"Aren't most girls virgin?" I asked, trying to return some semblance of normalcy to this super awkward conversation.

"Not in my world," said Ayako, straightening. "But I just wanted to see his reaction."

"How did you think I'd react?" snapped Takigawa. "God, you're a freak."

All smile vanished from her face. "What?"

"Well you just admitted you sleep around like a whore, so—"

"I am no such thing! How dare you—"

"Hey, you were the one who said it, not me."

Eager to avoid the impending fight, I quickly swiped up a banana and apple from an open crate and scuffled out.

"Oh, does Buddhism have a chastity belt?"

"My sex status is none of your business! No one's is, that's the whole point to this."

"To calling me a whore?"

"Well, let's think about the definition of a whore—"

"I don't sell myself out!"

"Now that's a prostitute. I said whore, which is—"

"I know what it is!"

I could still hear their raised voices in the parlor, where I had to avoid walking into a taciturn, grumpy looking Lin. Wondering if there was ever a time the guy didn't look grumpy and went to sit on the floor next to Naru, who was at the monitors, probably reviewing Takigawa's night. A steaming cup of coffee sat on one side of the keyboard.

"Wanna 'nana?"

To my surprise, he actually took the banana from my hand. I couldn't help but think it was like watching the new, sexy Aqua Man peeling and eating it like some normal human being. 'Twas weird.

"First three hours and he's already missed something," said Naru, harrumphing.

"Hey, if it makes me look better…"

"Do they have to fight now? Could you tell them to shut up? I need to hear."

"Ayako threw virginity around so now Takigawa called her a whore."

"Did I ask what it was about? No. I could care less."

I grinned. "Oh, Boss, you're especially cold today. I almost shivered."

"Just go tell them already."

"Nuh uh. I just escaped from there. You have legs, you do it."

He sighed one of his short, explosive sighs and took off the headphones.

"Here, then, you review it."

But just as I was getting up to take the headphones, apple clamped in my mouth, Ayako bowled in.

"I am done! Book me for the next flight home!"

"It will be by bus and you will be paying," said Naru. At least he wasn't holding the banana anymore.

Ayako's eyes widened, nostrils flared. "You said you would pay!"

"If you are suffering from adverse and dangerous effects from the house. You're just leaving because you can't keep your mouth shut."

"He called me a whore!"

"And your sexuality has to do with the job why…?" The look he gave her said he was already unimpressed by her and that he didn't really care about her answer.

She inflated with apoplectic fury.

"You…you don't care—"

"No. I don't."

I swallowed that tangy bit of apple. So cold. Maybe I should care? She was my friend. But she did sort of start it—and if a whore was a girl who slept around, then…man, maybe I was just a jerk. But it was getting annoying. Only siblings fought this bad. Sane grown adults at least waited to get close to someone before being buttfaces, right? Maybe I was naïve too.

Fists clenched, mouth pressed thin, she pivoted on the spot and stomped out.

Maybe she was so sensitive because she was afraid she was a whore? Not that I cared. Her bedroom business was her business, not mine.

But, still…

Sighing, I heaved to my feet and padded back to the kitchen, where Takigawa still munched morosely on his cereal.

"Dude, you should apologies."

He swallowed. "She's the one jumping on me first thing in the morning."

"It's almost noon."

"And I was up all night. Don't I have some license to be grumpy?"

"Yes, but then you apologize for it."

He grumbled around his spoonful of cereal, then picked up the bowl to drink the milk.

When he put it down, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Hey, you think we could go get lunch together?"

A squirmy jerk in my stomach that wasn't at all pleasant. "You just finished breakfast."

"And in two hours I'll be hungry again."

"What about apologizing to Ayako?"

"I will, I will, but lunch? I'll pay. If you want we can go just as friends."

Somehow, I got the feeling that putting a title to it wouldn't change the fact that it was more or less a date.

"I've got two other grumpy men to deal with this morning," I said. "By then I'll probably be ready to start an Amazon nunnery."

He just sighed (there was a lot of that going around today), and lifted up his bowl again.

I returned to my guard duty in the parlor, and to finish my apple without being jumped on for a date. Now, if the prof asked…

"If you're going to sit here, you might as well make yourself useful." He raised a second set of headphones without so much as glancing in my direction.

Why did I get the feeling I'd be writing another report, this time on Takigawa's night watch? Ugh. Maybe I should change my major.

And yet, even staring at screens on fast forward and straining my ears, sitting next to him leaked the peace from the night before. I could have melted, because, finally, I wasn't alone. He knew about my secret, and I knew his, and for me, that was enough.

Takigawa kept his word and ended up taking Ayako out for lunch. Naru didn't seem to mind much, which was annoying, because it meant he was shoving all the work onto me again while they pretty much had a vacation in Los Angelos. Yes, I had to write a report, as well as take all the temperature readings, check all the various cold spots, no matter how temporary, and we both visited the attic again.

I didn't see Lin again until two in the afternoon when he came down to take his turn at the monitors so Naru and I could examine the attic.

"You did have the strongest reaction here," he said, once we were up the ladder.

"Why do I suddenly feel like a temperature gauge?"

"Beats me."

"You are no fun."

He wandered to one end, taking temperatures as he went. He brought up an EM transmitter as well to catch any sounds that may be up there. Meanwhile, I tried to look like I was doing my ghost hunting thing, but really I was just wandering around. Despite my supposed fainting episode up here, I didn't feel as wary of the attic as I should. A part of me still longed to hide away in the darkness.

Next thing I knew, I found myself tucked away in a corner between a wardrobe and the wall, my knees tucked up under my chin. The professor was just squatting down to get a better look at me.

"Mai?"

A tremor of unease shook me. "How did I get here?"

A frown split his face. "You don't remember?"

I didn't answer. In a way, I felt faintly betrayed by the attic I had liked so much. I had never had a gap in my memory before, and it had been so sudden. It was like getting the rug pulled out from underneath you or missing a step on the stairs. Not to mention I was embarrassed to be found like this. What if the professor thought I was playing or seeking attention?

But he just looked at me, eyes jumping about my face to the rest of me, as though I were an interesting science experiment.

"Would you like to come out?" he asked.

Not really. If I stayed here, maybe I could melt away from my shame.

"Why am I here?" I asked, hesitantly. "I was…just wandering around."

"Don't think too hard on it. You may make your own assumptions rather than the truth." He stood and held out a hand for me. I took it, only realizing a split second as I did so that OH MY GOSH I'M TOUCHING HIS HAND and so shouldn't be freaking out about that. What was I, seven? And it wasn't like he was a celebrity or something. But SKIIIIIINNN! I so wanted an attic full of skin.

The second thing I only noticed once we were down the ladder and heading down the banister of the third floor for the stairs. A familiar, icy coldness had curled up in my chest. Being around Naru anymore didn't feel like company anymore, like it had all till now. It felt like an invasion. Overwhelmed, I wanted nothing more than to go back to my bedroom.

Besides, I had just freaked out about him giving me a hand up. The longer I was with this unattainable man, the more I'd end up hurting myself.

We didn't see Lin till we reached the top of the stairs.

And he was hanging from a rope tied to the second-floor banister.


	17. Death Affects Everyone, Even Batman

**Went to bed at 8 and freaking woke up at** 4am **. What else is there to do but puke at** 4am **? You can't even make a proper breakfast without waking everyone up. So, I tried to go back to sleep for an hour, gave up, and here I am, posting another chapter for you poor readers hanging on a cliff. Be grateful, I could have been a real stinker and left it there for a week, but I'm not, because I'm nice. PRAISES!**

17

 _"My mom told me recently that when I was a baby she tried to kill herself by swallowing a handful of Aspirin, but she just ended up throwing it all up. I know this wasn't the only time. There was a bottle of whiskey underneath the driver's seat of her car and my grandma told me she had to rush down when my mom threatened it again, drunk or sober, I don't know._

 _…I love my mommy. So much. I don't want any other. I don't like hearing this. It's scary. And yet she says she's worried about me."_

I froze like a deer in the headlights. Naru leapt down the stairs, nearly breaking himself on the second floor landing before stumbling into a sprint to the other side, where Lin hung.

 _Knife._ I snapped into action. I flew down the stairs as well, falling twice, but I ignored the pain blooming in my right ankle to rush through the kitchen, grab a knife, and sprint back up. Naru had already had the same thought and met me half-way up. He took the knife and attacked the rope. Far faster than I thought a kitchen knife could cut through nylon, it snapped and Lin crumpled the last three feet to the first floor landing.

"Call an ambulance!" he yelled.

I already had my phone to my ear, having messed up the stupid 911 two times before finally getting it.

The rest moved by in a stunned blur. Naru got the rope away from Lin's throat and spread him out on his back, trying to keep the man's airway open. Takigawa and Ayako returned to a body and rope hanging from the banister. Ayako screamed in her mouth. Takigawa took Lin's heartbeat and started CPR.

I drifted, high, high. There was nothing to do, and it couldn't be happening anyways. The world had tipped over and I was still standing up.

Naru and I should have gotten everyone out when we had gotten suicidal. We should have said something. We didn't. We didn't. We didn't.

The moment the EMTs appeared in the doorway with a stretcher, I ran, taking the steps two at a time. Up, up, up, back to the attic, back to the corner between the wardrobe and the white wall.

I don't know how long I sat there. But it couldn't have been too long before Naru all but ran up the ladder, where the only light shone through. I had left the attic dark, as it should be.

"Mai? Mai, say something now."

I flinched at his hard voice. "I'm here."

"Come here. Come here now."

Jeeze, enough with the nows. But his voice frightened me, and I gingerly crawled out from my safe space and staggered the moment I tried to get my feet underneath me. My right ankle hurt something nasty, and did not care for my abuse of it.

But I had somehow gotten close enough to the light for Naru to see me, and he crossed the rest of the distance.

And then, he was clutching me hard to his chest, so tight I could feel his heart thudding.

"Don't come up here anymore," he said, still in that hard, frightening tone. I winced a bit, as his mouth had been right next to my ear.

"Okay."

"I'm sending the data to our clients. I'm sending you kids home."

"What about you?"

"I have to stay with Lin. Don't come up here again."

"I already said I wouldn't."

Maybe I could have appreciated the fact that he was holding me if he wasn't shaking so hard and almost yelling in my ear.

I wrapped my arms around his torso and made hushing noises. "You're okay, Naru. It's going to be alright."

He said nothing. Just shaking and holding me.

"Why aren't you leaving yet?" he was at least softer this time.

"Um…you're kind of clamping me in. And I think I sprained my ankle pretty bad."

"Why didn't you mention that?" yet he still hadn't let me go, and didn't seem like he would anytime soon.

"Because you were too busy yelling at me."

And then I was shaking, as though he had warmed me enough from hypothermia to start shivering again. My throat tightened and my eyes itched.

"Why'd he do that?" I croaked. I didn't want to ask the real question we were both thinking: whether or not Lin was still alive.

Naru just shook his head. But at least he let go of me and sat back.

"I'll help you down the ladder."

He didn't have to do much. Takigawa and Ayako were waiting at the bottom, pale and eyes wide.

"Don't you ever run off like that again," said Ayako, her cheeks wet.

"Here," Takigawa reached out for me. Naru lowered me and Takigawa caught me by my waist, where he lowered me to the ground like lacey, spun glass. Then Ayako was hugging me.

"We're leaving," she said. "Right now. I won't take no for an answer."

Then I let her bandage my foot and did the best I could to pack up, despite everyone's warnings to stay off my foot. But that would have been like staying off my heart and not looking into the dark abyss staring back at me.


	18. Strip Me Free

18

" _I tried the suicide hotline. Ironically, it was so busy I had a 45 minute wait ahead of me. I didn't wait. I just hung up and called my mom. Worked as good as anything."_

Late evening, we finished packing all our equipment. The van wouldn't start.

"Of course," muttered the boss.

Ayako and Takigawa watched on from the porch, shivering in the late autumn air. Naru raised the hood and we both took a look, even though I suspected neither of us knew what the crap we were looking at.

"Spend the extra money for a newer Ford," he continued, "and it fails you."

"Plot twist," I said. I would have laughed, except the numb cold was still there. The ambulance's sirens still whirred in my ears, and I still remembered the unnatural way Lin's head bent on his neck.

Naru prodded about the van's interior a bit more, sighed, then picked up his phone to call a mechanic.

Meanwhile, I wondered back to the porch, as it had started to rain like mist. Takigawa and Ayako said nothing, though they both drew near to me.

It was cold. Inside and out.

I breathed in the dark, the cold, the mist. The urge to return to the attic inflated within me like a too large balloon.

The prof ended his call and returned to us on the porch.

"There's heat inside," he said. "We'll be fine if we stay together."

I didn't want to be together. I wanted quiet, dark, and peace. I didn't even know why. I only knew that my gut wanted me to throw back my head and howl until I ran out of every bubble of air in my body. Just…haaaah. There was no point in staying. No point in going. A present and future of struggle.

But I found myself on the couch in the now equipment empty parlor. The lights were the LED kind, and therefore, far too white. I missed the kind yellow glow of regular bulbs. That made me think of the orange streetlights painting stripes across Naru's face through the window. Such a…beautiful face…I shouldn't be allowed to exist in the same sphere as that. It was unfair.

I gave in to the urge and silently shoved out all the air in my body, holding as long as I could until I had to suck it back in again. Why was breathing such a pain? Each breath brought more cold to the numbness in my gut.

Even if they would care, they'd get over it. I was just a breathing in the night.

"Mai,"

I flinched as Ayako snapped her fingers in front of my face. I blinked and looked around, the numbness in my chest spiking a bit in need to see Naru. I couldn't let him do the same.

"Where's the professor?" I asked.

"Bathroom," said Ayako. "Takigawa's with him."

I stood, urgency moving my gut. I had to see him, make sure…he was a genius, after all. Takigawa was hardly an obstacle.

"I'm going to go wait with them."

And before Ayako could say anything, I was out and climbing up the stairs, smooth as a winter wind. I saw Takigawa's shoulder and part of his leg leaning outside the doorway of Naru's old room.

Then I heard a flush, and all the warmth my concern had left me vanished.

I didn't stop. I tiptoed up the next landing, thinking the carpet on the stairs tender and my socks old friends; my flesh cumbersome and given more care than it needed. I should be sturdy and strong.

The ladder to the attic had been left down. Strange, I could have sworn Takigawa practically slammed it closed. Must have been pushed too hard and missed the latch.

I stood at the base of the stairs for a minute, staring up into the darkness that beckoned me. In it were soft dreams of Navajo quilts and mother scented sheets. And through that, the dream of a golden warm parlor, where my parents sat with the sole intention of holding me close.

It would just be a break. It would just be darkness. It would just be loneliness.

"Mai!"

At Ayako's call I flinched up the next few steps, almost as if my legs had a mind of their own. In a heavy, too cold breath, I had the rope to pull up the stairs, door and all, which closed without a sound on oiled hinges. The refurbishers had done their job well.

And then there was pleasant, blissful, complete black. The rain pattered just above my head on the roof. There were whooshes of cars driving past through puddles. I crawled till I felt cool wall, and there I curled up.

 _Let me breathe._

The line passed through my head, like a breath, and I remembered the poem I had found on my pillow. Breathing, freedom, what else had it said?

 _Strip me clean._

My skin felt tight. I scratched at my arms, moving down, and the feel of my nails was like fresh, shocking ice after a hot day. Such a pain. If only I could get down to the core of myself, take off all this uselessness that I hung around and made me such an unwanted, listless creature. I could have grown. Could have made people love me.

 _Make me naked_

 _To the bone,_

The flash of ice turned hot as my nails bit deep and I caught my gasp.

 _Quietly, quietly,_

 _So no one_

 _Interferes._

A rush of pleasure ran up my arms. There was me. This pain almost wasn't pain. It was the knife against the veil which locked me up too tight in here and made my skin itch.

 _Make me fleshless,_

 _Make me whole,_

I bit my nails in deep and peeled. Warm and wet came with the underside of the sparking ice, which went numb once I pulled it away, like a thin, Clementine orange peel.

 _Make me no longer_

 _Mortal._

My fingers were sticky. I digged on, digging for what made me so fragile. I dug for a tendon, a muscle, a bone. Dull, purple like lights flashed through my vision in the black. My head went light, and in that lightness a great heaviness that had been on me for far too long lifted. I was walking down a new path, now. That golden warm room waited for me, and my parents had tears in their eyes. There, I'd be clothed in a soft dress, given any food I liked, and would be sent to dance on the soft carpet in the hall. No rain could hit me now. Just dance and laugh, joining hands with sisters and cousins and aunts I had never known, but who knew me very, very well. And I did know them, because here I had all the time in the world.

My skin came off so easily. Like peeling a soft shell from a hard boiled egg. So much slime. So much wetness. God, I was disgusting.

 _Strip me clean_.

And I was there, dancing. And I did well. I could dance. I twirled, as light as air, as straight as a ballerina. Mother clapped on, dressed in a dark navy that her sheets had once been.

Something too hot clamped like metal around my wrists.

I coiled back, dismayed, then angry. It hurt. Their salty fingers stung my raw flesh.

I swore and lashed out, but I ended up curled in agony as their grip only tightened.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Tears stung my eyes. I couldn't recognize the voice, though I knew it. A good deal of my mind had floated up to the sky with black, popping lights. In their midst there was no thought.

And thus, I was left with only my heart.

"I just want to go home!" I cried, and the words pierced my own ears, weakening me. I was so close.

"That's where we're going—"

"No!" There were no words. "I wanna go back, go home, let me go!"

The voice said something under their breath than barked for someone to bring a towel. The sting of their hands was lessening, and my mind wavered on the last tendrils of consciousness.

"They're gone," I whimpered, desperately hoping I could get them to understand before my mind lifted off. "I want to go with them. I don't belong here. Home, please."

Then, as silent as slipping yarn, my mind detached and I drifted out into the black.


	19. He and I are Broken

**It's one of those days where it really sucks to not have a car. One of the many things I need to do is get chicken feed. My poor girls have been all out since yesterday, and while I let them scavenge the whole backyard, what's to find in wet, snow speckled lawn? I have to get to my aunt's in Orem (two hours away) to help her, meds, etc. Ugh...**

 **And dishes. Every freaking dish in my house is dirt and I have no dishwasher. All by hand. Gonna need some really good anime to distract me...*whine***

 **Oh well. It'll all work out, right?**

19

 _"I had a friend who more or less demanded she be with me after she heard of my suicidal episode. I would have much rather been alone, and she wasn't the most comforting of presences, but I understood that I had scared her and that she needed it more than I. So, I ignored the anxiety she brought and let her sit there while I played video games. It brought home to me how careful I had to be to not hurt others."_

I woke up hurting.

"What the…"

The ceiling was industrial rectangles, the kind we would throw pencils at in choir to see if they'd stick, and some had. I didn't like it. It was distant, professional, and ugly. Then I got to look around and see the rest of what could have only been a hospital room, with me resident number one in bed with my arms bandaged half way up my upper arm. The moment I tried to bend one, pain spiked so hard and quick, I got black dots across my eyes. Also, because of this, I did notice that my IV had been stuck into my foot, which had been padded about with what could have only been heating pads. Good thing, because my other, none IV foot was freezing. I didn't understand how I could have slept through all this, but, then, blacking out is a different story, isn't it?

I wasn't sitting alone for long. A nurse came in, dressed in green scrubs and with her thick blond hair tied to the back of her head. She beamed on meeting my gaze.

"Good to see you're awake," she went to the computer at my bedside, which had its wires in all sorts of machines to monitor me. "Are you hungry? Can I get you something?"

"Maybe a break. What the heck am I doing here?"

Her typing paused and she gave e a sympathetic look, the kind that was quietly calculating in the back of how bad of shape you really were even as they felt sorry for you.

"You don't remember?"

I scrunched up my face. Why would I even ask if I hadn't? Though, now that I was thinking on it with my tired brain, I remembered a calming darkness and itchy arms. But I couldn't see how mere scratching could have caused my arms to become immobile.

"We had to give you a skin graph. Almost forty percent of the skin on your arms had been peeled off."

I jumped. "Huh?"

"Oh dear, this really must be a shock to you," she wrote down some numbers, now purposely not looking at me. "Let me go get the doctor. While he visits with you, I'll go find you something nice to eat. Any requests?"

Kind of hard to think of food when you were just told your arms were skinless and you couldn't remember why.

She seemed to get that well enough and left without needing a word from me.

Not soon after she left, a figure dressed in blackety black walked in, the only real blackety black black in the universe it seemed, and stopped at the foot of my bed.

"I heard you don't remember," he said in his usual flat, dry tone. The kind that made him sound chronically unimpressed with the world.

"I remember wanting to be in the attic and my arms getting itchy…this is a dream, right?"

"I'd imagine the pain is pretty real."

I tried to move my arms again and got a reminder that nearly blacked me out again.

And for some stupid reason, the only thing I could think was, "I'm not going to be able to do my homework like this."

"I'm told after a few days you'll be able to bend your arms without much pain, and your hands and fingers are unscathed." He gave his straight-lipped smiled. "If you thought you were going to be lucky on your essays and reports, you're out of luck."

I stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to say something else. But he just looked back at me with those blue eyes, shockingly bright amidst so much black hair and clothing. I was forgetting something else. Something important. My whole mind was off duty and floating somewhere up with the stars.

So, unimportant facts got fed to me instead.

"You don't wear black all the time because you're goth or emo," I said.

He shook his head.

"Then, it's for Gene?"

He nodded.

And for some reason, thinking about his dead brother made me remember the other person who had stood next to him.

"Lin?" I asked.

"Alive," he said, carefully. "In a word. He's broken his neck and damaged a good deal of his nervous system. The fact he isn't paralyzed from the neck down is a miracle, but it's like he has advanced Parkison's."

I blinked, my eyes suddenly hurting. Burning.

"And…me?" My voice pitched a bit.

He ducked his chin down to give me something of a gentle look.

"You're going to be alright."

My jaw jittered and my throat tightened. "I…I'll get my arms again?"

"You have them now," he said. "They just need to heal." Then the softness vanished to something even colder than his usual. "The spirits of that house did a number on…us."

Oh yeah. That's what we had been doing. "What are you going to tell the clients?"

"To have every inch of the place exorcized or to burn it all down," though the way he said it, he preferred the later. "Like hell they could use that for marketing."

"It's a beautiful house," I said, not quite in defense. "It would be wonderful to live in one like that someday. I…I dreamed about it…that dream that made me cry."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why would a house make you cry? Did you use to live in one when your parents were alive?"

I shook my head. "No. I just like old fashioned, beautiful things. Things nowadays look like they don't get half as much time or care in their creation. No, I…I thought of how nice it would be to have a big house full of people who love me." I tried a smile, knowing it was weak. "How narcissistic is that?"

"I'd say it's rather human. You want a house full of family."

I shivered. "Is that…is that what family is like?"

"The healthy ones, yeah."

And then I was crying. It had been one kind of pain thinking it could never happen and I had just imagined it, it was a completely new pain to know it actually existed. Maybe even commonly so.

His eyes jumped about my face, tears streaming, probably getting a bit of snot going down my nose.

"Hard to miss what you don't know or remember," he said softly.

For a few very awkward, very unpleasant minutes, he just stood there and watched me sob out loud into my poor bandaged arms. Then, I heard the creak of the bedsprings and a warm, clothed arm wrapped about my shoulders. His other hand brushed aside my messy bangs before grabbing and dropping a small box of tissues on my lap.

"I'm not good at this," he said, in a soft, measured way that made him sound totally unlike his cool, confident self. "But you'll have a family someday. Maybe even soon. You are all grown up now."

"Stop making it sound like I'm ten."

"You have to be at least 16 and with guardian's permission to marry."

"Then just say get married, have babies, be happy."

He hefted a sigh. "Whatever. Just blow your nose already and stop sniffing it back. It's making me cringe."

I did so. After blowing the horn several times and breathing deep, his arm slipped away from my shoulders.

"Like Takigawa said," he said. "You're not hopelessly ugly. You have a chance."

I let out a short, wet laugh. "I don't know whether it's so hard for you to call me cute or accuse you of ugly shaming. Ugly people need love too."

"Fine. You're marital material, happy?"

I blinked. "How do you know?"

He threw his arms in the air. "Again with the flirting—"

"It's a legitimate question! I'm the one in the throws of misery here, give me a break!"

That did make him pause a bit longer before getting up off the bed, black sleeved arms crossed and expression default once more. He didn't look at me.

"You are adorable, Mai. You're one of the few people besides Gene who can make me laugh. I figured that's what most guys wanted. Cute girl who makes them laugh."

And probably because he'd start changing colors soon, he crossed the space between him and his long coat draped over the visitor's seats in one swift stride.

"I'll see if I can catch the doctor, get an estimate on when we can move out of here." He scowled. "It would be ridiculously expensive to have to leave you here and fly you over later. I'd rather we just all left in the van."

And with that, he left, not leaving me a moment to get a word in edgewise.


	20. Freaking Grammar Police and My Stare

20

 _"My sister-in-law has a similar disorder to me, so we can understand each other when we're painfully unreliable, say sorry too much, or sometimes go weeks at a time without touching or phones. We get the other's need to constantly be contributing to make us feel secure with our relationships with others, and the self-hatred that keeps us up at night._

 _And this morning, she surrounded me in fluffy blankets and let me sleep on her bed after her husband left. Then she played games with my boy and made sure I had food, told me she loved me, let me cuddle with her until I woke up, then drove me home._

 _There is a reason to keep living. There is happy and wonderful things nearby or even right next to you. The darkness of your own brain sucks out your will, your faith, your hope, but you have got to keep believing these words, because soon, the night will end, and the morning will come, and it will more than make up for the sleepless suffering you had to go through."_

If I was expecting anything to change after Naru's confession of my adorableness, that was a mistake. He was even more back to normal the next day when I shuffled into the van, a little tipsy from pain meds, and got bundled up in a blanket by Ayako and Takigawa both. Their eyes shivered when they met mine, and their smiles had gone stiff.

I understood instantly. I had hurt them. Watching Lin dangle from the stairs had been bad enough. And now the poor guy couldn't be moved from this hospital until his neck bones healed, and even then he'd be irreparably damaged.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Hey, you were possessed," said Takigawa, as though that happened to everyone. "All of us can agree on that."

"Yeah, you had this look," said Ayako. "Gave every possession video I've ever seen a run for their money."

"And you didn't even remember it when you woke up," added Takigawa.

That still didn't seem like enough. Because it had been my head, my stage, I could have changed my thoughts if I had just tried hard enough, but I hadn't. I had just let myself fall right into it.

And then I caught glimpse of Naru glancing back at me in the rearview mirror and looking away.

If I was going to accuse myself of that weakness, I'd have to accuse Naru of the same thing. And everyone would say he was anything but weak.

Besides…I think I had done enough jabbing at myself for the time being. Anymore, and I might fall to whatever had taken me into that attic again.

For the next week, I had to take baths with plastic bags around my arms. Professors gave me odd looks and students I didn't even know, ranging from my age to their forties, approached me to ask if the story was true—if I had been possessed by a ghost and peeled my skin from my arms with my bare fingers. After trying my hand at some quippy, sarcastic lies (No, I totally just had a sudden fetish for peeling off my skin—you should try it! It's great!), I ended up getting tired of it. I fell back to the good old "I don't remember" or, best yet, just looked at them. Yeah. Deadpanned stares are the best way to get out of a stupid question. I was so stupid pleased with myself whenever I gave that look that it made it hard not to smile and ruin it.

Then was my check up date at the hospital to get my wounds examined and general doctor looking over-ish. Frankly, I was fed up with the painkillers that made me fall asleep and the tingling, itching pain in my arms to not really care about the details.

It was only then, though, that I realized I hadn't received a single bill.

"Don't I owe you?" I asked the doctor who was…actually doing a pretty good job at getting my arm unbandaged without much pain.

"Uh, that's something that the financial office would know. I just leave that up to them so I can focus on the patients."

…Yeah, if I was a doctor and made tons of money, I'd probably not know what every single thing I did cost. Frick, to be that rich…wait, did I have a poor complex? Did I just hear bitterness? Oh, gall, whatever, shoot me.

But the ear-tasseled bitty at the office just pulled up my file on the computer and shook her head.

"It's not that you have nothing on there," she told me. "But rather it's on hold for payment from another party."

"'Another party'?" Like some Democrats? Nah, I'm just kidding, I knew what she meant. Like a sorority party, beer and all.

"Well, I imagine you signed a waiver of some sorts before you went in to wherever you injured your arms," she nodded to bundles of white on the counter that were said arms. "There was probably something in there about covering injuries you sustained while there."

"Aren't waivers usually to avoid paying for the injuries the idiots who are signing may get?" I asked.

She paused. Her long, gold tassel earrings never stopped wiggling, even then.

"You know what, I really don't know."

Wasn't it her job to know? I mean, she looked old enough to know. Like…grandma age. Grandma's in the workforce didn't generally not know, right?

And since I was never the type to throw the matter away once someone told me it was taken care of, especially when thousands of dollars of hospital care could be on the line, I went to my next source of answers.

Professor Davis's expression didn't twitch in the least when I came to class early and leaned on the whiteboard, aiming for a sort of casual, but intimidating, pose.

"So, Naru," I said, wincing a moment later when I realized I had used that weird nickname without thinking. So much for intimidating. "Who is paying for my hospital bills? I reread the waiver. They says if we get boo-boos, we pay for our own band-aids."

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "Did you get a sucker for being a good girl?"

"On topic, Prof. Am I going to be swimming in soul-crushing debt a month from now or do you have a name?"

"I guess you would worry about that," he grasped his chin with forefinger and thumb. "No parents to catch your fall and all that. Sucker indeed."

I slapped my hand on his little lecture podium and tried out the stare that had gotten the annoying question askers to leave me alone. Hey, maybe it was dual purpose. I didn't know how well it did, though, as it hurt my arms like a mother and that had to show on my face.

Another mouth twitch, but he sighed. "They're being paid. What more do you need to know?"

"I need evidence, not just your word."

"Look, if I'm lying, I'll personally take responsibility."

"Do I have that in print?"

He muttered something under his breath before saying, "Sit down. I will not have this conversation in front of students."

"Only three have come in, and one of them is Takigawa."

Said Takigawa must have had his ears perked like a rabbit's, for he smiled and happily waved his hand at us.

Naru pinched his nose and closed his eyes. "Mother of…"

"…charitable donaters paying off strangers' medical bills?"

He glared at me. "I'm paying your bills. And it's 'donor' not 'donater.'"

My mouth dropped. "Excuse me—"

"You say that too often. Get a word calendar."

"You can't…that's got to be thousands upon—you're just a college professor!"

"And you're just a college student with no family who more or less saved my life," and he made it all sound rather dull and 'no duh.'

Heat burbled to my cheeks. "I wouldn't say saved your life…"

"Oy!" called Takigawa, very maturely, mind you. "No flirting like ten-year-olds now!"

I threw my poor stinging arms to my sides and looked to the ceiling.

"Shut up!" I yelled. Lecture halls were pretty big, after all.

"He's never going to let me live that down," said the Prof, now massaging where he had pinched his nose. "Children. All of you. I'm a god-damn, bloody babysitter."

"Prof, look, I can't just let you pay them without doing anything—"

"Yes, you can, and you will sit down or I'm flunking you, here and now."

I recoiled back. Oh yeah, he was mad. And not the cool, slice like anger he usually wielded in class with all the grace of a professional fencer. This was raw, hot, and abrasive.

I jerked to go to my seat. At the last second, I caught sight of the pink coloring his ears and turned to hide the stupid smile spreading across my face as I went to sit down next to the smirking Takigawa.

"So, what were you talking about?" he asked.

"About how my arms cost a lot of money."

Takigawa blanched at that. "Oh, crap, I haven't even thought of that. You just clean boilers, right? And you don't have any family to help—"

"It's fine." I said, cutting him off before he could attract the attention of the growing number of students. "That's why we were talking about it. Kapeesh?"

It took him a second, but then his eyebrows rose and dropped and he nodded.

"Kapeesh." He gave me a half-sided smile. "So, lunch?"

"Only if you're paying. I am such a poor, impoverished soul after all."

He laughed, and I did my best not to eye the poor Professors ears as he went into his lecture.

I lied. I totally watched them like a hawk. They were still red when class ended. :3

End

 **Author here! I think if enough people like this story I'll write a sequel, but I'm really not suppose to. I should be trying to publish all my books and stuff in the real world and blah blah, even if it is stupid encouraging. But I hope you all liked this story. I wrote it to climb my way out of a suicidal depression and back into writing. I'm doing pretty good now. ^.^ Actually happy and yay me! I hope it helps others like it helped me.**


	21. Sequel Alert!

Just so you know, here's an announcement of THE SEQUEL! "Out of Hand!" Check it out, if you want. ^.^ To those wanting this, your request has been granted.


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